


bloom bloom

by nanamilks



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fae & Fairies, Falling In Love, First Love, Found Family, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Plants, Platonic Relationships, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Soulmates, artist jeongin, chanlix are hopeless, garden fairy jisung, minbin are married, the slightest bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-22 19:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamilks/pseuds/nanamilks
Summary: "Who... who are..." Jeongin finally gets his voice to work, but it dies in his throat. The stranger smiles, a bright one that shows all of his pretty, perfect teeth and turns his eyes to crescents. It makes the sense of calm radiating off of the guy that much more potent."My name is Jisung. I live in your flower."(jeongin finds a dying flower and takes it home in an effort to save its life. he has no idea what he's signed up for.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133
Collections: AGIBBANG FEST





	bloom bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screamingskz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingskz/gifts).



> this is my submission for [AGIBBANG FEST](https://twitter.com/AGIBBANGFEST), for **prompt #0124.** ♡
> 
> i barely edited this so if you see a typo please pretend you did not~!!

Jeongin takes off his apron and hangs it up on the hook near the timeclock, dusting loose dirt off of it and clipping his nametag to it for tomorrow. It’s just after six and if he walks fast enough, he can catch the six-fifteen bus home and hopefully not have to wait around for the six-thirty should he miss it. He starts thinking about what he’s going to make for dinner as he grabs his jacket and his backpack, debating over whether he feels more like having stir fry or settling for an easy cup of ramyeon again since he has homework and not a whole lot of time to waste cooking—

“You’re out already?” Felix leans against the doorway of the employee office, pulling his gardening gloves off and stuffing them in the pocket of his own apron. Jeongin nods and shrugs on his jacket, then starts sifting through his backpack in search of his beanie to help him brave the autumn cold. 

“Yeah, you’re closing with Changbin tonight,” he says, pulling his hat over his blue hair. He slings his backpack over one shoulder and coos with false pity when Felix starts pouting; he knows he’s Felix’s favorite manager to close with even though he won’t say it. It’s not like Changbin’s a pain in the least, but there’s a certain pressure that comes with closing the shop alongside one of its owners. Not to mention that Jeongin and Felix are notorious for goofing around and making it take ages longer to get everything done than it should.

Felix folds his arms over his chest and steps out of the way so that Jeongin can get to the main floor of the shop, following him like a lost puppy on his way to the door. “Do you work tomorrow?” he asks hopefully, going over to a display in front of the window to straighten up some bouquets the two of them had assembled earlier in the day.

“No, but I’ll be back on Friday,” Jeongin can’t help but laugh as Felix full on whines now like a sulking child whose parent is dropping them off at school and leaving them on their own. “You’ll be fine. Oh, I think Chan is scheduled, so there’s that.” 

He pretends not to notice the way that Felix’s face pales as he slips out of the door. That’s another thing Felix won’t say but Jeongin is well aware of: he’s had a thing for their delivery boy ever since the guy started and Jeongin looks forward to watching them skirt around each other every other day. He’s a little bummed he can’t see it tomorrow. “Bye, love you,” he singsongs, letting the glass door swing shut behind him, leaving the tinkle of the bell behind.

Jeongin makes it to the station just in time and rides the bus wedged between a woman cradling a sleeping toddler and an old man carrying groceries. He pops in his earbuds and watches a video on his phone to pass the time, the same routine he’s grown used to over the last couple of years since he’s been working at the flower shop. When he hops off the bus at his home station he has to walk a couple of blocks to get to his apartment building, and it’s a little bit colder tonight than it has been lately, so he folds his hands together in the pocket of his hoodie and walks a little faster than usual.

As he’s following the light flow of foot traffic down the sidewalk, he notices a bunch of boxes, garbage bags, and worn out furniture alongside the street waiting to get picked up, so many pieces that it looks like someone’s moving out or maybe got evicted, or something. It looks like a lot of junk, chipped wood and outdated patterns on each piece of furniture. He's studying the intricate floral design on a dirty old armchair when he sees, nestled in the corner of it as though it's hiding from the cold, a wilting plant with leaves almost as brown as the plot it lives in. Jeongin can't help but to stop in his tracks, struck by the melancholy energy that seems to radiate off of it.

Maybe it's his innate need to take care of plants that look like they need it, years of tending a garden shop leaving him easily triggered by a dying flower curling in on itself or rotten leaves overrun with holes. He doesn't keep many plants in his apartment not because he doesn't want them, but because he spends so much time working and studying that he worries they'll wilt because of _him_ , and then he'll have to live with the guilt of killing a plant for the rest of his life.

He doesn't realize he's obstructing the flow of traffic until someone bumps into his shoulder with their own, frowning at him in confusion as to why he's just standing in the middle of the sidewalk like a crazy person, staring at a dead plant on an ugly chair by the side of the road. He mutters an apology and steps closer to it to get out of the way, but up close he can see all of it's ailments: the beginnings of blight and mildew in its leaves, a shriveled and weak-looking flower, and a thin layer of frost growing over the soil that implies it's been sitting out here for a while. Jeongin's heart breaks.

There's little thought left to be had about the situation. Jeongin picks up the plant and hugs it to his chest to keep it warm, resuming his trek down the street toward home.

✿

Jeongin sets the pot on the windowsill beside his bed where he knows it'll get good sunlight in what few hours of the day are left now that winter is approaching. He allows his cat to sniff it all she wants and then bats her away when her curious paws start trying to touch, scolding her in a baby's voice about how it's not for her to play with. After he waters it and turns up the heat in his apartment to help it warm up, he sits at the edge of his bed and considers that he doesn't even know what kind of plant it is. It's mostly leaves but there's the one flower, brown around the edges and shrunken much smaller than it might have once been.

He takes a picture of it and texts it to the shop's employee group chat, asking if any of them can tell him what kind of project he's just taken on at the risk of Minho or Changbin scolding him for not knowing plant species off the top of his head. He tosses his phone onto his bed and goes about his night, making dinner and getting started on his homework, but glances over at the window every so often to check on the plant as if it's going to magically recuperate while he isn't looking.

✿

"It's definitely a gardenia," Minho says, leaning against the counter and zooming in on the new picture Jeongin had sent this morning when he woke up and found the plant defrosted and a little less miserable, but still pretty sorry. Jeongin stopped by the shop on his way home from class the next day to pick up some supplies for his new friend. He's leaning beside Minho, looking at the photo with him, and rolls his eyes when Minho nudges him in the arm teasingly. "I can't believe you didn't know that."

"I've never seen a potted one! I've only ever seen them as, like, huge bushes outside." Jeongin rests his chin on his fist, squishing one of his cheeks up and huffing. "Can I save it?"

Minho hums as he studies the photo for a long moment, then nods. Jeongin lets out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in, visibly deflating against the counter. He knows it wouldn’t have been his fault if he found it dead and couldn’t save it, but the pain of potentially having to go home and throw it away would have been pretty severe.

“It’s pretty sick but it’s still a little green,” Minho points at a few spots on the photo where the stems of the leaves are still a pale green clinging onto life. “If it was outside any longer, it probably wouldn’t have made it.”

Jeongin stands up straighter, eyes wide with hope. “So what do I do? Like, what does it need?”

Minho pockets his phone and leads Jeongin around the store, recommending him different heat lamps and misting bottles and pesticides should he need them. He tells him how to cure the mildew on its leaves and the specifics of the soil environment it’ll need, and quizzes Jeongin on how to keep a summer annual healthy in the winter. Jeongin ends up grabbing anything he suggests without a second thought, even the magnifying glass and room thermometer Minho had jokingly said would only be necessary if he felt the need to watch it _that_ closely. 

“It’s gonna be pretty high maintenance because of the cold,” Minho warns him as they head back up to the checkout desk, helping Jeongin carry his load of supplies. “Just let us know if you need any help, okay?”

Jeongin nods and digs out his wallet while Minho is ringing him up, thankful now more than ever for his employee discount. As he’s handing him his card, the shop doors swing open, someone gasps, and then within a second a pair of arms are wrapped tightly around Jeongin from behind. Felix nuzzles into him and rocks him side to side in excitement, making Jeongin laugh and rub Felix’s arm in greeting. 

“You came to see me!” Felix beams, letting go of Jeongin only so he can loop his arm through Jeongin’s and glue himself to his side. “I knew you would.”

“I wake up everyday wondering when I’m gonna get to see your face,” Jeongin says solemnly, making Felix let out a silly, high-pitched squeal. He takes his card back from the reader and stuffs his wallet back into his coat pocket. Minho coos at their affection, starting to put Jeongin’s purchases into a couple of paper bags.

“He came to get stuff for his new child,” Minho carefully bags the new humidifier Jeongin paid extra for because he wanted the one shaped like a little whale rather than the standard, ‘boring’ ones. “Does that make you stepdad, Felix?”

“Is it that flower you found yesterday? You’re gonna take care of it?” Felix detaches from Jeongin so that he can run to the office and clock back in from his break, returning with his apron on, clumsily tying it behind his back.

“As best as I can, yeah,” Jeongin takes the bags and holds them securely, _supporting them from the bottom_ as Minho keeps reminding him while he helps him pick them up. “Wish me luck.”

“Why are you so dedicated to the little guy? Is it gonna grant you a wish, or something?” Minho jokes.

Jeongin wavers for a moment and contemplates that, because he honestly doesn’t know. Beyond just wanting to save it’s life, he feels some kind of pull toward it. Like, when he first spotted it on the side of the road, frail and helpless, he was meant to bring it home. Now that he’s taken on the responsibility, he’s going to do it right. 

“I don’t know,” he says anyway, heading toward the door and pushing it open with his back. “I just feel like I’m supposed to.”

✿

The first few days are the hardest. Jeongin stresses out about the plant way more than he probably needs to; he moves it from window to window when he thinks it's not getting enough sunlight, keeps his apartment too warm at night because he thinks the flower needs to be comfortable more than he does, struggles to find the line between soggy soil and sufficiently damp. He finds himself looking over at it when he needs to be focusing on his homework should he miss something incredible, almost expecting it to perk up one day and instantly become the perfect picture of a healthy gardenia. He finds out quickly that this recovery is not going to be a speedy process.

Taking care of it becomes part of his daily routine, something he doesn't really have to set an early morning alarm for anymore or check off boxes for on a daily to-do list. Watering it in the mornings is second nature just as feeding his cat breakfast is, pruning it's dead leaves like scooping the litter box, and if he says, "goodbye, guys," as if there's someone other than Bomi in the apartment when he leaves for work or class, he swears he isn't insane. Sometimes he runs his fingers along the leaves with a light touch as if he's coaxing them awake, similar to how he'll stroke Bomi's ears when she’s curled up in his lap.

He finds himself talking to it some days, whispering praises of how well it's growing and how strong it's getting. Sometimes he’ll tell it about his day, or use it to talk through whatever recipe he’s trying for dinner. He'll set the heat lamp up on his desk so the plant can sunbathe beneath it while he does his homework, radiating some kind of comforting aura onto Jeongin that makes him feel just as warm. He decides that he likes the little humidifier, too, and curls up next to it to destress at the end of especially long days, new friend right by his side.

Jeongin remembers Minho mentioning that wrapping a plant’s pot in bubble wrap helps to keep it warm, so on a weekend when the weather is significantly less miserable than usual, Jeongin swaddles his friend like a baby in a few layers of bubble wrap to accompany him out on the balcony while he paints. He spends a while painting a scene of the city street through the bars of the balcony, but soon finds the image of his tired little flower basking in the sun to be far more enchanting.

Color begins to seep back into it after about a week, not nearly as vibrant as he knows gardenias to be but definitely trying its best. He sends the group chat a progress photo one morning when he notices it looking particularly healthy, leaves beginning to flush with deep green and the flower becoming more white than brown. He feels like a proud father, unable to keep himself from smiling when they all praise him for how well he’s taking care of it. 

**Minho:** Proud of u yeni, he’s growing up so nicely! 😍🌱🌿🪴🍀🌸🌼🌻✨  
**Changbin:** Getting so big  
**Felix:** he has ur eyes 🥺

The flower is beautiful, and healthy, and it’s because of him. He really can’t believe that.

✿

Jeongin comes home after a particularly bad day with tears in his eyes and hands that tremble so much he has a hard time getting the door unlocked. He slips in quietly, presses his back against the door, and lets out the first of however many tears need to fall for him to feel better.

He cries pathetically while he pulls off his winter gear and shoes, and snivels on his way over to where Bomi is sleeping peacefully at the foot of his bed, snuggled up in the reject sweater he’d thought about wearing today. He wants to bother her for her affection to cheer him up, but feels guilty about waking her and opts to stand there gently rubbing her belly until she starts to stir. It’s comforting just to feel her soft, grey fur beneath his fingers and the vibration of her purring, but it’s not enough to make him stop crying. His chest hurts.

Work was rough; Jeongin’s not sure what national holiday it is that enabled everyone and their mother to buy and send flowers all over Seoul but he hopes it never happens again. It had been nonstop flower arranging and taking orders all morning and in the middle of the chaos he’d ended up having Chan deliver the wrong bouquet to the wrong address, made an arrangement with white camellias instead of white roses, and got chewed out by Changbin who was just as stressed and yelled at him pretty harshly. Minho made Changbin apologize, but Jeongin was still pretty sensitive for the rest of his shift. He left without saying much of a goodbye and knows they’re gonna give him shit for that tomorrow.

Then he got to campus and found out he had a quiz in his hardest class and definitely did not study for it because he didn’t even know it was happening. He left most of the page blank and kept his head low for the rest of the lecture in hopes that the professor wouldn’t call on him for anything. The shit icing on the shit cake, though, even more than nearly missing his bus and having to stand between a man with no concept of personal space and an old woman that didn’t smell very good, was the cafe near his apartment being out of the bungeoppang he always gets when he’s feeling down. _That_ is what tipped him over the edge.

A bad day combined with the pressing weight of sadness that makes a home in his chest whenever winter rears its ugly head has Jeongin feeling a little bit like the world is ending. He sits down at the edge of his bed with his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees, curled into himself as a frustrated sob racks through him. He’ll feel better after a good cry, always does. He rests his chin on his fists and tries to breathe after a long moment and fixes his eyes on the plant on the windowsill. Without much thought, he finds himself reaching over to grab it, holding it carefully in his hands.

There’s always been a certain energy that radiates from it. It’s what drew Jeongin to it in the first place, he thinks; what was once a melancholy pull that told Jeongin it needed love and care has become a warm, tender glow that tells him he should keep taking care of it. It’s as if, because he’s nourishing it, it’s nourishing him back. 

He knows that that’s crazy and he probably wouldn’t mention it to anyone, ever, but the aura that comes off of it reminds him of the salt lamp his mother got him in high school because she read an article that said it would help with depression. It was a nice gesture. He wasn’t sure if it did very much back then, but he feels like the gardenia does that and then some. Jeongin runs his fingertips over the deep green leaves and the big, blooming flower that’s nearly pure white, still a little brown around the outside edges. He’s vaguely aware of the tear that’s running down his nose but doesn’t realize when it drops into the soil. He thumbs over the chipped rim of the pot and thinks, distantly, that he’ll be fine.

✿

The flower begins to turn yellow.

Jeongin immediately panics. It doesn’t look like it’s dying by any means: all of the brown has healed and the leaves are glossy and lush. The soil is just wet enough, as damp as he always makes it, so he knows he didn’t over or under water it. The temperature in the room is good. It gets just as much sunlight as it always has. So when he awakes one day to find the cream-colored flower starting to transition to a pale yellow, Jeongin’s heart sinks. 

He fills his Google search history with frantic questions about what kind of plant sickness this is and what he needs to do to fix it. He reads through articles about gardenia death and what to do if the leaves start to turn yellow and drop, but his plant isn’t doing that. There aren’t any bugs leeching off of it when he checks with the magnifying glass, and the humidifier is always going so he can’t imagine that it’s in drought, or anything. Frankly, it looks like a perfectly healthy flower. It’s big, waxy, and finally emits the rich smell he knows gardenia’s are iconic for. It’s just yellow. Golden, really.

When he asks Minho about it later at work, he immediately knows what’s going on because of course he does, plant whisperer that he is. He looks at the photo on Jeongin’s phone for all of a moment and makes an affirming _ahhh_ noise before he hands it back. 

“It’s a golden gardenia. They’re pretty rare. We had a little bush once, a long time ago. They’re too much work to keep happy,” Minho says, and Jeongin nods in understanding -- taking care of this plant is probably the most painstaking task he’s ever had. “They’re gorgeous, though! They start out pure white and then turn yellow as they mature, like yours did.”

Jeongin’s metaphorical dog ears perk up. “So it’s not dying again?”

Minho laughs, shaking his head. “It’s a very happy, healthy baby.”

✿

Although Jeongin's days begin to get busier as the year crawls toward the holidays and finals season, he doesn't falter in taking care of it. Even if seasonal depression is making it harder to get up, to eat, to go to bed at a decent time, and he spends more time tending to his cat and his flower than he spends taking care of himself some days, he feels a bit more complete if he ends the day making sure they’re okay.

It’s no surprise that the state of his apartment starts to reflect the state of his mind. His hamper of dirty laundry begins to overflow and he has intentions to take care of it, really he does, but he has so many impulse-bought clothes that he’s accumulated over the years that the idea of doing laundry keeps slipping his mind because he always has something to wear. So it gets worse. He pretends not to see it.

Dishes begin to pile up in the sink and he forces himself to wash some of them because it’s _gross_ , but soon enough he pretends not to see that, either, and just starts ordering more take out. He at least forces himself to take the garbage to the chute every few days so that’s not gross, too.

It’s a miracle that he’s still showering and brushing his teeth every day, even though every sluggish bone in his body screams that it doesn’t want to move. He still does his best at work, and if he makes a minor mistake here or there, he apologizes before anyone can reprimand him about it although the errors are never enough to warrant reprimand, let alone an apology. It still weighs on him, though, long after the work day is done. 

✿

It turns out that waking up to the flower having turned a brilliant gold one morning, blooming like the sun on his windowsill, is not the weirdest thing that happens over the next week. It does still startle him, though, shocking some adrenaline into his system that he hasn’t felt in a while. It looks beautiful, and it’s thanks to him.

The most alarming occurence is one that he almost doesn't notice.

He gets up early in the morning on a Tuesday to go about his day, work in the morning and class in the evening; he’s dazed from not sleeping long enough and is going to suffer a headache today because of it. He gets dressed and forgoes breakfast as usual, half because he’s not hungry and half because he’s running late from snoozing his alarm too many times, stuffs his homework into his backpack and ends up leaving it on the kitchen counter because he’s too preoccupied getting Bomi’s breakfast out and watering his plant. He makes it halfway down the hall of his apartment floor before he realizes he doesn’t have it, runs back to get it, and then books it down the stairs so he doesn’t miss the bus.

When he gets home, he stops in his tracks in the doorway. He’s sure it must be the lack of sleep or the migraine making him see things.

He can vaguely remember leaving a storm of clothes on the bed and the ground in his hurry to put together a decent outfit, and he definitely didn’t make his bed because he never makes his bed anymore. So why, staring at his bed across the room in his little studio, does he find the sheets neatly spread, pillows propped up against the headboard, and not a single shirt or pair of pants in sight? There’s no way he would have had the time or energy to do that before he left. Did he black out or something?

He stands and stares at it for a handful of seconds, trying to replay the morning in his head, but he can’t remember ever picking up any clothes or touching his duvet after kicking it off of himself. He’s got to be losing his mind. What are the odds that someone would break into his apartment, clean it, and then leave? 

It’s Bomi strutting by and brushing against his leg, welcoming him home, that snaps him out of his futile train of thought.

Jeongin gets too caught up in studying that he doesn’t think about it for the rest of the night, until he’s getting pajamas from his closet after a shower and notices those clothes from this morning that he’d thrown all over the place, folded up neatly on top of his dresser. He blinks a few times, but they don’t disappear. 

“You’re fucking tripping, man,” Jeongin says to himself. He scrubs at his eye with his fist and grabs his pajamas, closing the closet door with his shoulder.

It happens again the next day, and Jeongin’s absolutely positive this time that he didn’t do it. He comes home to find Bomi curled up on his tidy bed, probably basking in the comfort of a clean place to lay since every surface of his apartment has been taken over by clothing or papers or take-out containers. There’s her cat tree in the corner by the window, and her big, plush pet bed on the sofa, but she’d be an odd cat if she liked to sleep in places that were actually meant for her.

It gets worse. By standards of having a clean apartment that he had nothing to do with, he supposes it gets _better_ , because everything is slowly becoming spotless seemingly whenever he turns his back. One day it’s a freshly made bed and folded laundry, and the next it’s washed dishes, sitting in the drying rack or put away in the cupboards. It evolves into laundry in the washing machine in his tiny kitchen when he wakes up and then it’s hung out to dry on the balcony by the time he gets home. This is such a fucked up, extraordinarily generous prank.

In his fear that someone really is breaking into his home just to clean it, he starts to get a little paranoid. It becomes hard to fall asleep, thinking that someone’s going to sneak in and stand over him. He even asks one of his neighbors, Hyunjin, if he’s seen or heard anything odd happening in his apartment while he’s gone during the day, but Hyunjin says no, that he hasn’t seen anyone come in or out of there other than Jeongin. So now he’s even more confused.

When he sees that his paintbrushes are thoroughly washed and sitting in a cup near the kitchen sink, it becomes personal. He starts to believe that maybe it’s one of his friends, the few he has, doing this to him and told Hyunjin not to say anything if Jeongin asked. It seems too coincidental, but he can’t understand what else could be happening. 

Felix has been extra cuddly lately, obviously picking up that Jeongin’s not doing too well, so maybe he’s trying to cheer him up outside of work and the times they see each other to hang out. He does have Jeongin’s spare key for emergencies. But he’s not about to stop him at work and ask, ‘ _have you been sneaking into my apartment and cleaning it? Because it’s always really clean lately and I’m never home nor do I have a maid_.’ He can only imagine the look Felix would give him if that is not the case.

At least it isn’t scary anymore, if it ever was. If anything, Jeongin’s amused. More than that, he’s thankful to come home to a tidy space everyday. It’s doing inexplicable wonders on his mood and his energy, too.

He decides to test it. Before he settles in for bed, he leaves obvious messes here and there: he leaves his take out containers on the coffee table, dumps some clothes on the floor, smears toothpaste on the bathroom sink and leaves his toothbrush outside of the holder. Whoever has been cleaning up behind him is going to be pissed off today considering all the work they’ve done to get his space as pristine as it has been recently.

As he’s kicking around his shoes near the front door to turn them into a pile rather than the neat line they were in, he realizes he’s being crazy. This whole thing is crazy. But if he doesn’t tell anyone it’s happening, did it really happen? He turns out the light and heads to bed, not without grabbing the throw pillows off the sofa and tossing them on the ground as the final touch.

He has to wake up early the next morning, reminded by his phone alarm going off an hour and a half sooner than usual. They’re getting in a big shipment at the flower shop and he agreed to collect it with Changbin and help put it all away. Jeongin has a hard time opening his eyes, blindly reaching for his phone on the bedside table and silencing the alarm. He figures Changbin won’t be too mad if he’s a couple of minutes late due to laying in bed for too long. But the sound of movement in his kitchen, like something being slid across the floor, makes him bolt upright.

The kitchen isn’t immediately open to the rest of the apartment; it’s hidden by a half wall that gives his studio some sense of being more structured than just a wide open space with appliances and a bed and a sofa all together. That adds to the sense of dread in his chest, knowing that whoever’s been in his home without his permission is here right now and he can’t even see them. It gives him a chance to prepare himself, though, and grab a weapon if he needs one. He slowly slips out of bed, trying to make as little noise as possible, and grabs the bat he keeps underneath it.

As he approaches the wall, hovering by the side of it that encloses his living room, that feeling of dread seems to lessen, growing duller and duller until it begins to turn into something like... wonder. Jeongin's never encountered a ghost in his life that he knows of, but he thinks that this buzzing phenomenon of bewilderment beneath his skin might be similar to what people feel just before they lock eyes with an apparition. He's not sure if he'd rather it be a spirit waiting for him around the corner or a human, but the closer he gets to the edge of the wall, the more fascinated he becomes.

His suspicion that he's about to encounter something as fantastical as a ghost is, extraordinarily enough, not far off.

When Jeongin pokes his head around the corner and peers into the kitchen, his grip on the bat tightens momentarily, and then loosens almost entirely, the wood nearly slipping out of his hands. But he holds onto it so that he doesn't startle who — or what — is kneeling on his floor, scrubbing tirelessly at the tile with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water, a murky grey color like they've been at this for ages. They've got their back to him, so they don't seem to notice that they're being watched.

The first thing Jeongin notices is a head of short blonde hair, honey-colored like sunlight even in the dark, the moon coming through the window making staticy strands appear almost silver. Their tiny form registers in his head next, how small they look beside the stove they're working in front of and most notably, how miniature they look in the big sweater they're practically drowning in — is that Jeongin's? He recognizes the sage green knit and has an epiphany that _that's_ where it went, lost maybe a month ago without a trace. When they reach over to dunk the sponge in the bucket of water, they pull the pooling fabric of the sleeve up to their elbow and, displaying their profile to Jeongin, end up revealing a small, pointed ear.

To say that Jeongin is confused out of his mind would be an understatement. Not only is there a person in his kitchen, cleaning his floor at five in the morning presumably out of the kindness of their own heart, but he's not sure this is even a _person_. He's seen people with slightly tapered ears, always reminding him a bit of elves, but none as sharp as this. He has the fleeting urge to reach out and touch them, to see if they're real or if this is one of those people that gets implants to look like a Lord of the Rings character. They _look_ awfully real.

As alarming as the sight of that is, nothing is as perplexing as the sense of calm he feels in his chest being in this person's presence. The warm aura of a salt lamp, inviting and nurturing. Like Jeongin should come closer, rather than retreating. The sensation of being both mystified and beckoned makes Jeongin's chest feel tight. He can feel his heart beating fast beneath his ribcage. 

"H-Hello?"

The sound of his voice, albeit gentle, startles the intruder into dropping the sponge and whipping around, curling into themselves as they scoot backwards, away from Jeongin and toward the corner where his refrigerator is. Locked in a wordless staredown, Jeongin gets to study his face; his big, round eyes, his tiny nose, the way his thin upper lip parts from his plump bottom one to expose his front teeth as he pants to catch his breath. Even rounder than his eyes are his cheeks, puffy like a baby's. His knees are drawn to his chest and his hands are splayed against the wall behind him, his bare feet turned inwards toward each other. He looks so — so little. Even smaller than before.

Something changes in the stranger's face, the fright easing from his features and melting into relief, almost like he's glad to see Jeongin.

"Oh," he breathes. "It's you!"

Jeongin's too stunned to react. He stands there, still half hidden behind the wall with his bat hanging loosely from his hand, and all he can do is blink as the boy gets to his feet and approaches Jeongin with his hands raised in surrender so that Jeongin doesn't suddenly regain control of his senses and swing at him. Jeongin glances to his left as movement there catches his attention, alerting him to Bomi's presence as she drinks from her water bowl as though nothing is happening. Like she knows all about this guy, and she's not afraid of him.

"Don't be scared," the boy coaxes, continuing to cross the tile floor until he's right in front of Jeongin who has to cast his gaze down now since he's so short. Jeongin imagines his eyes must be wider than the full moon looking in on them through the window. "I'm so happy to finally meet you."

The bat clattering to the floor startles all of them, but mostly Bomi who runs out of the room to hide. Still, Jeongin can't take his eyes off of the boy's face, staring at him like he's the most perplexing creature he's ever seen. With a soft smile, the stranger clasps his hands together although they're shrouded in the too-long length of Jeongin's sweater that he's wearing. His sweater that, now that he's standing upright, falls amongst his thighs before giving way to his thin, knobby little legs. Jeongin's eyes climb back up to his face, and he blinks again.

"I've been wanting to thank you for so long, but I didn’t know how, o-or when," he murmurs, his voice sweet and friendly, quiet to keep in tune with the quiet of the night. "Everything that you've done for me, when you didn't even know me, when... when you could have just kept on about your business. You've done so much to help me, and I can never thank you enough. I... I think I would have died if it weren't for you. How amazing is that? You really saved my life."

Jeongin blinks once more.

The boy laughs lightly; he has to be aware of how insane this all seems. "I know you've probably been really confused why everything keeps getting so clean. I just wanted to show you how grateful I am for what you've done for me. You... you took care of me so selflessly. And I wanted to try to take care of you. So I've been... helping."

The pieces of the puzzle try their hardest to come together in Jeongin's head, but he feels like he's missing too many or there's too many oddly shaped edges that don't have matches. This confirms that Jeongin's not going crazy, at least, because someone really _has_ been cleaning his apartment for him and he _hasn't_ been blacking out and going on manic tidying sprees in the middle of the night. At the same time, he still feels out of his mind and a little anxious because he can't make sense of what is happening. Who is this? What the hell is he _talking about?_ How does he get in here every day?

"Who... who are..." Jeongin finally gets his voice to work, but it dies in his throat. The stranger smiles, a bright one that shows all of his pretty, perfect teeth and turns his eyes to crescents. It makes the sense of calm radiating off of the guy that much more potent.

"My name is Jisung. I live in your flower."

When Jeongin's alarm begins blaring again from his bedside table, he's not sure what to do. He's got Changbin waiting on him at the shop to get a massive stock off of the delivery truck and he knows he'll be pissed if he shows up any later than he was already going to. More urgent than that, though, is the guy in his kitchen spouting nonsense about living in his fucking potted plant. His mind is racing a million miles a second and he feels like he needs to sit down, or maybe he's not actually awake and this is a dream trying to make sense of the real life madness he's been dealing with. He rubs his arms as a way to ground himself or self soothe, and pinches his bicep hard enough to draw a gasp. He's definitely awake.

"Are you upset?" Jisung's bright smile has fallen to a worried frown, tilting his head and reaching out for Jeongin. When Jeongin doesn't pull away, Jisung rests his hand on Jeongin's forearm, and the very real pressure and warmth of his palm further seals the deal that this isn't a dream. Jeongin's skin tingles beneath his touch.

"No, no I'm..." Jeongin shakes his head, slowly at first and then faster as if trying to shake some sanity back into it. He cards his fingers through his hair and Jisung keeps holding onto him with both hands gently around his elbow. Jeongin stares back at Jisung whose expression is calm and serene. The amber color of his eyes envelops him like an electric blanket. Jeongin finds himself growing calm, too, under his gaze. "I'm just so fucking confused."

"I know, I understand. This must be unbelievable for you," Jisung nods up at him, his gaze never faltering. Jeongin feels like he's staring into some swirling, starlit galaxy. Like there's nothing else in the universe besides Jisung's eyes. Jeongin takes a slow breath in, and shakes himself out of whatever trance he was slipping into. He's going to be so late.

"I have to go," he says, slipping out of Jisung's gentle hold on his arms. He leaves to the main room of his apartment, pulling open his closet doors and blindly grabbing pants and a top. He starts to strip his pajamas off but becomes acutely aware of the fact that he's not alone, tossing a glance over his shoulder at Jisung who's standing in the kitchen archway, wringing his hands together clumsily. Jeongin heads into the bathroom instead.

He tugs his jeans and a hoodie on, pulls his retainers from his mouth and hastily rinses them with water before dumping them haphazardly in their case, then brushes his teeth as quickly as he can. He breezes around the apartment, grabbing his shoes and his backpack and his keys, and Jisung is still standing there, watching Jeongin flit across the room and seemingly not pay him any mind, but Jeongin couldn't forget Jisung if he wanted to.

Jeongin stops in the middle of the room, looking at Jisung who's still watching him, unsure of what to do or if Jeongin is mad or uncomfortable with him. How is Jeongin supposed to go to work and act like everything is fine and normal and not at all mystical and weird?

"Are you... are you gonna be okay here, by yourself?" he asks, even though that's a stupid question considering Jisung is apparently always here, by himself when Jeongin is gone. _Weird_ is hardly the best word to describe all of this.

Jisung smiles softly, nodding his head. "Yes, I'll be fine. Don't worry."

As if Jeongin can do anything but worry now. Does he tell him to make himself at home? Have a snack? Don't work too hard? Jeongin inches toward the door and pulls it open. "I'll um... I'll be back in a few hours." He steps halfway out the door. "Please don't steal anything." Anything _else,_ he should say, eying his sweater hanging off of Jisung's small frame.

Jisung laughs brightly, and the sound makes Jeongin's heart kick. "I would never steal from you. I'll be here."

✿

Work goes by in a blur of color and thoughts that Jeongin can't comprehend. Changbin has to drag him out of his head a few times, snapping his fingers at him or calling his name to get him to pay attention and help with the new stock. Jeongin lets himself zone out while he's snipping the stems of some marigolds. _My name is Jisung. I live in your flower._

When Jeongin gets home, he lingers outside of his door for a long moment to brace himself. Part of him hopes that he'll open the door and Jisung won't be there because this isn’t real. The rest of him hopes that Jisung will still be there, because he's desperate to know what's going on.

He presses in the code and opens the door, slipping inside and taking off his shoes and coat. He turns around and finds no one but Bomi, who's strutting over to him to say hello. The room is quiet save for the intermittent drip of the faucet in the kitchen, and it smells like the lemon-scented cleaner he keeps in the pantry and the lavender air freshener from the bathroom. It doesn't feel like anyone is here, lurking around corners or hiding from him. That doesn't make him feel less spooked, and definitely not less confused.

Jeongin scratches his cat's head and strokes down her back for a moment or two before he stands and goes to look around his place. He peeks into the bathroom, into the kitchen, in the closet and beneath his bed. He doesn't find anyone. He’s truly out of his mind.

He goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge, looking for a snack to accompany him with his afternoon studying. As he's bending down to grab the bag of red apples from the crisper drawer, he feels a presence that makes him look over his shoulder, assuming it's Bomi following him around. When he finds Jisung standing by the wall, he nearly jumps out of his skin, clutching onto the refrigerator door so he doesn't fall over. Jisung jumps too, as if he's not the one that scared Jeongin.

"Wh—where did you—" Jeongin would have noticed if his front door had opened, and he checked everywhere. He stares up at Jisung like he's got three heads, although the circumstances of Jisung as-is are already pretty unbelievable.

"I told you," Jisung grins, gesturing vaguely behind him, "I live in your flower."

Jeongin blinks a few times, and then slowly stands up. He grabs the bag of apples and closes the door, glancing at Jisung with narrowed eyes before he turns to get out a knife and a plate so he can cut up a couple of apples. He rinses one off and starts cutting into it, not minding his hands as much as he should be when holding a knife, staring at the wall in front of him while he thinks of what he wants to say first.

"What does that even mean? _You live in my flower._ How the hell... how do you live inside of a flower?" It sounds insane leaving his lips, but Jisung just stands there, listening patiently. Jeongin turns his head to look at him. "How does a person get in and out of a potted plant."

"Well I'm not... really a person."

Jeongin's face screws up with impossibly more confusion.

"I know that I look like a human, like you. But I'm _not_ like you. I'm not a human."

Jeongin's hand has frozen around the handle of the knife, the blade halfway through the apple. He keeps staring at Jisung, who shifts on his feet and starts wringing his hands together like earlier.

"I'm a fairy."

✿

Jeongin sits across from Jisung at his little kitchen table next to the window, picking at his apple slices that haven't even touched the jar of peanut butter next to them. Jisung has his knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, and Jeongin sees how pink and bruised they are, presumably from how hard he works cleaning the apartment.

It's been quiet between them for a few minutes, Jeongin trying to process the conversation Jisung's started that Jeongin's not quite ready to continue. It makes sense, he supposes, that Jisung is a fairy that lives in his gardenia. That explains how he's always here, never seeming to leave or come in, and how suspiciously magical things keep happening. His hair is practically the same shade of gold as the flower itself. But Jisung _can't_ be a fairy. Fairies aren't real.

"Can you... explain? Like, I don't..." Jeongin picks up an apple slice and bites a bit off. He chews absently. "I feel like I’m tripping balls right now.”

"Right, of course. So, there's lots of kinds of fairies, right? Like elves, and nymphs, and pixies. Pixies are the worst," he frowns, shaking his head. "I'm a garden fairy. I get my energy from the plant I've attached to, which happens to be the gardenia you found."

"What does that mean? You get your energy from it?"

"We’re kind of a package. When my plant is sick, I get sick, and vice versa. I've lived in that flower my entire life, and we've never been that sick before. I thought we were going to... I-I've always been able to keep us healthy, but it got to the point where I was too weak enchantment. But you saved us. You were so kind. I couldn't believe it."

"How did you get so sick?" Jeongin can't believe he's entertaining this. But Jisung seems so genuine, and everything is starting to come together finally, even if it all feels entirely nonsensical.

Jisung tenses up a little, and starts playing with a string at the end of his sleeve. "I haven't lived in nature in a long time. That's where I was born, and that's all I knew. I don't even remember how long ago... maybe fifty years ago? Sixty? Someone found my flower and uprooted it. They put us in a pot and took us home. They knew about us, that fairies could be found in certain plants. My flower is a pretty rare kind of flower, that's why I love it so much. But that's why my caretaker loved it, too. He thought I must be extra special because of my extra special flower."

Jeongin doesn't even know where to begin with dissecting all of that. The first thing that, dumbly, comes out of his mouth is, "Sixty years ago?! How old are... you look, like, twenty."

Jisung smiles, cheekily cupping his round face with his hands. "You're so sweet, Jeongin. I'm two-hundred-and-twelve."

Jeongin gapes at him, and Jisung laughs, but then pulls a face of mock insult. "I'm very young! I am the picture of youth, thank you very much."

Jeongin can't help but laugh, both at Jisung's vibrancy and at the absurdity of everything he's hearing. He bites into another apple slice, unscrewing his jar of peanut butter and scooping some out with another slice. "So, what happened? When he took you home?" He pushes his plate toward the center of the table, offering it to Jisung to share. The boy — the fairy — happily reaches for a piece.

"Oh, he was so lovely for so long. He took such great care of us, I was almost more glad to be with him than back in the forest I came from. I felt the happiest and healthiest I'd ever felt because of him. But then he got... he stopped caring, I guess. Water came, like, once a week, and then not at all. We never got sunlight anymore. I never got to eat. He didn't need me anymore."

"What did he need you for?"

Jisung's mouth is full when he speaks, "for my magic."

"Magic, right," Jeongin nods, looking down at a spot on the table. "What kind of magic do you do?" That makes him sound like he's a magician. "Or _have_ , I guess..."

Jisung lights up. "I can do a lot with plants, like sense how they're feeling and change their genetics! It's really fun, but there wasn't really a use for that when I lived with him. He liked that I could answer his questions and predict things using the plants around me as a channel for that kind of energy. He'd ask me lots of questions, like what the winning lottery was going to be, or what he should do to get his ex-wife back. Finding fairies is a sign of good luck, since we're pretty tricky, so I used all my luck on him." Jisung grabs another piece of fruit. "And I'm really good at healing. That's my favorite."

That's what finally brings the puzzle pieces together. _I'm really good at healing._ If Jisung lives in Jeongin's gardenia, then the warm, calming aura he feels radiating from that plant every time he looks at it, stands near it, and waters it in the morning isn't in Jeongin's head. When he nourished the flower, and nourished Jisung in turn, Jisung nourished him back. That was real. His salt lamp.

"Yeah," he says thoughtfully, "you are really good at it."

They sit in silence for a while as Jeongin ruminates in all of this new information. He's got a fairy living in his apartment, and it's wild and incredible but the logical part of him is still clinging onto the idea that this is all an intricately planned hoax. He squints at Jisung.

"If you really are a fairy, why don't you have wings?"

Jisung pauses mid-chew. He seems to avoid Jeongin's eyes, looking down at the plate in front of him. This is either a touchy subject, or a part of the hoax that Jisung hadn't thought about. He clears his throat a little, then finally continues to chew his food until it's gone. "I did have wings," he says softly, still unable to look at Jeongin. He leaves it at that.

There is so much more that Jeongin wants to ask, but the glow of warmth that usually envelops Jisung is dimming with the plummet in his mood and Jeongin hates that it's his big mouth's fault. He purses his lips and thinks to apologize, but saying anything at all feels like the wrong move. Jisung continues to eat the fruit between them.

Jeongin studies Jisung's face, the way his cheeks get even puffier with how quickly he's eating all of Jeongin's apple slices. They look so full that it's almost comical, like he's a squirrel about to hibernate for the winter. He starts to wonder when the last time Jisung might have eaten was. As much as he's noticed his house getting cleaner and cleaner, he hasn't noticed any food going missing. He nudges the plate closer to Jisung and scoots the peanut butter over, too.

"You really like apples, huh?" he smiles softly, tipping his head curiously. Jisung smiles a little around the mass of food in his mouth.

"Fruit is my favorite. And cheese! I really like cheese."

Jeongin nods. "Fruit and cheese. Easy enough." He gets up to go and cut up another apple for him, making a mental note to get a bunch of fruit and cheese from the grocery store next time he goes. He's got a new roommate to feed.

Their first day together is nothing short of awkward; they’re two strangers that don't necessarily know how to act around each other trying to find their footing. Jisung seems unsure of what to do with himself now that Jeongin knows he’s there, and Jeongin’s not used to having another person in his space like this — even if Jisung’s not really a person. He’s still a pair of eyes to watch Jeongin go about his day and a sentient mind to potentially judge his horrible habits, which he didn’t realize how many of them he had until now. 

Jeongin tries to go about his day with homework and painting, and Jisung goes back to tidying the already spotless apartment. All of the messes Jeongin had made last night are gone, everything smells fresh and clean, and if he looks hard enough he swears sparkles are going to start appearing because his home is that pristine. As he's typing up his essay for his History lecture, he's hyper-aware of Jisung standing by, seeming like he wants to say something or wants Jeongin to say something to him. Jeongin looks up at him and Jisung smiles softly, awkwardly, when their eyes lock.

"Do you need something?" Jeongin asks, and Jisung's smile falls a little, shaking his head.

"No! I'm, uh... do you? Need anything?"

Jeongin glances around for a moment, thinking of anything else in the house that might need care, but he's pretty sure Jisung's gotten everything. Not that he wants Jisung to spend his life cleaning up after him — but he's not sure what else fairies do all day, or what Jisung likes to do besides look after Jeongin. Doesn't he have stuff to do inside of his plant? This is all still so weird.

"No, I'm okay," Jeongin assures him. "You can just chill, if you want?"

"Chill. Okay," Jisung nods slightly, playing with his fingers, a nervous habit Jeongin's picked up on. The smaller boy stands there for another moment before going over to the sofa, then sits down on the center cushion. He folds his hands in his lap and chews at his lower lip, staring at some spot on the carpet and looking so incredibly out of place. Jeongin's still watching him from over top of his laptop and has to resist the urge to coo.

He gets up from his desk and goes over to the sofa, picking up the television remote from the coffee table. "Do you want to watch TV?" he asks, grinning at the perplexed expression Jisung pulls at the question. Jeongin sits down on the cushion beside him and turns the television on. Jisung jumps at the sound and the bright light from the screen across the room.

"TV. It's, like, a bunch of shows and movies you can watch," Jeongin tells him, assuming by Jisung's wide eyes that he's never experienced this before. "People pretend to be other people to play out a storyline. Or sometimes, it's real people being followed around by a camera and doing stupid shit, like this one."

Jisung makes a small noise that sounds like _wow_ , staring at the screen and drawing his knees up to his chest. Jeongin leans toward him to show him the remote, pointing out the controls and telling him how to change the channel and the volume. Jisung takes hold of it and starts flipping through channels, and he looks like a child at the candy store. Jeongin can't help but smile.

"So this is what you do when you sit here for hours," Jisung says, glancing at Jeongin with a grin. "I always wondered why you were just staring at the wall for so long. I was worried about you."

Jeongin laughs, getting up from the sofa and heading back to his desk. "When I have to pry you away from it later tonight, you'll understand."

By the time Jeongin parts from his work to make dinner, Jisung is still curled up on the sofa with his eyes glued to the television. He's lying down with his head on a throw pillow, and Bomi is at the other end of the sofa, nestled just beyond Jisung's feet. It sounds like he's watching a thriller, all gunshots and deep, serious voices with lots of swearing. Jeongin gasps to himself at a particular line about someone being a _motherfucking bitch_ and almost feels like a parent, appalled that Jisung's being exposed to such content.

He makes himself an easy meal of kimchi fried rice and cuts up a white peach with a side of string cheese for Jisung, bringing their dinner to the living room and holding Jisung's plate out to him. The look of pure adoration on Jisung's face as he accepts his food makes Jeongin wish he had a photographic memory so he could keep it forever.

They eat together and watch a kid's movie that Jisung said looked interesting because of all of the colors. When it's over, Jeongin cleans up their plates despite Jisung's insistence to do it for him; Jeongin appreciates all of the help that Jisung's given him, but he also doesn't want to mooch off of him. Jisung's not his maid, and Jeongin's a grown man that needs to clean up after himself.

"I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed," Jeongin tells Jisung once he's returned from the kitchen. He goes over to his closet and grabs a towel and some pajamas, glancing over at Jisung and freezing in his tracks. "Do you need somewhere to sleep? Where do you..."

Jisung smiles, shaking his head. "I have a bed, silly."

 _Oh_. Jeongin's almost, _almost_ forgotten that Jisung is a fairy. Without the wings or any kind of magical fairy dust trails around the place, Jisung could fool him for a regular friend over for a sleepover rather than a mystical being that lives in his plant. "Right. Well, um... okay. I'll be back," he heads to his bathroom, looking at Jisung once more before he slips inside.

When he comes back, Jisung is gone. His eyes settle curiously on the gardenia on the windowsill by his bed, and when he gets beneath his covers, he murmurs a quiet _goodnight_ before he turns out the lamp on his bedside table.

✿

Whatever FBI agent is assigned to monitor Jeongin's internet usage must think he's out of his mind.

If Jeongin has a question about something, he becomes determined to find out the answer and however many variations of that answer may exist, and all of the questions he has about Jisung's very existence are no exception. His search history is often filled with stupid things like _'how many times can I pee in one day before it's considered an issue'_ and _'can I die from eating too much cereal'_ and cheats for how to pass hard levels in his video games, but the deep dive into fairy lore is new.

He finds himself reading through blogs and forums on his lunch break at work and between classes on campus, sometimes pulling them up on his laptop in the back of the lecture hall when he should be taking notes. He had no idea that there was such an extensive history to be learned about fae, so many different types and origins, and he definitely hadn't expected there to be such a large community of believers with stories to tell and knowledge to share. If Jeongin had sat down and read through these forums a few days ago, he'd have thought every single one of these people was delusional. It's incredible how much all of this makes sense to him now.

He researches garden fairies and fills a couple pages of a notebook with valuable information he's gathered. He studies what they like to eat, how they're summoned, how their trust is gained, what magic they possess and what their interests are. Like the descriptions that all of the people who've witnessed a fairy have shared in the forums, Jisung's tiny, captivating through his charm and kindness, and possesses an aura that Jeongin can't really describe as anything but otherworldly. 

Jisung radiates sunlight, warm and tender. Jisung likes flowers; he likes everything about nature, really, like weather and animals. Jeongin has caught him chatting with Bomi more than once, and oddly enough, it seems like Bomi gets him, and he gets Bomi. Jeongin wishes he could get in on the conversation.

Jisung is smart, but he has a dim understanding of how the human world works and why things are the way that they are. It's like there's a duality of both ignorance and awareness in the way he views the world around him — like this is his first life and he's so intrigued and overwhelmed by the smallest of things. There's a girl that runs a fae blog that describes her own fairy as having an 'odd sense of otherness,' and Jeongin ruminates on that. While Jisung feels solid and true, a tangible body on this earth, he feels like a spirit at the same time. Jeongin doesn't know how to explain it.

But he supposes that otherness about Jisung is due to the fact he's not of this realm. He's only grown more curious throughout all of his research, but he's not sure if it's rude to interrogate Jisung, like he's an extraterrestrial or something.

With a new acceptance and understanding of the being that lives in his house, all Jeongin can do is make sure that Jisung is as happy and comfortable in this realm as he can. He's not sure what happened with the last human that took care of him, but he knows that he has to be better than them. Jisung is selfless and small and kind, and the innate need to protect him that Jeongin felt from the very moment he saw that gardenia on the street has only grown stronger. He won't let him down.

The next time Jeongin goes to the grocery store, he follows the list of fairy foods that he found online and fills up a basket with milk, cream, organic fruit, bread and oatmeal, a bunch of sweets, and possibly the biggest jar of honey he's ever seen. He gets to the self-checkout and gapes at the total cost of his haul — he's going to have to put in more hours at the flower shop to feed himself and his new companion.

In the morning, Jeongin gets up earlier than usual to leave Jisung a bit of an offering; an invitation of friendship, to let him know that he's welcome here and that Jeongin is grateful for him. He mixes a big glass of milk with honey and spreads some raspberry jam and sweet butter on a plate of toast, leaving them on the windowsill next to the gardenia with a bowl of sliced apricots. He scribbles something onto a sticky note and leaves that there, too, before he leaves for work.

_Hey, you. Have a good day. Feel free to eat whatever you want in the fridge, I bought you stuff. You're safe here._

He comes home bearing a bunch of fuschia tulips wrapped in newspaper and a carrier of little potted plants: succulents, bamboo, and a kalanchoe with small, golden buds. He presents them to an unsuspecting Jisung that's hanging laundry out to dry on the balcony, and once again wishes he could capture the look on his face with a photographic memory.

"What are these for?" Jisung asks, cradling the tulips like a baby and delicately sniffing them. His cheeks are as pink as the flowers when Jeongin looks down at him.

"We just got those tulips in today. I thought they were really pretty and I really wanted you to see them," Jeongin says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "The others are... just because. I know you like plants, and I want you to be around more plants. These are, um... they're really cute and small. Like, uh. Like you. And I thought you might like them."

Jisung stares up at him with the most heartbreaking pout on his face. He moves the bouquet to one arm so he can wrap the other around Jeongin in a tight hug, clinging to the back of his shirt and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Jeongin is startled for a moment, but winds his arms around Jisung, too, holding him close.

Hugging Jisung is a comfort Jeongin could never explain. Jisung radiates sunlight, warm and tender.

✿

Having a fairy as a roommate is… nice. Rather than making messes, Jisung only ever cleans them; he takes up little to no space at all, not just because he's so small, but because all of his belongings are in his plant; he doesn't eat any of Jeongin's leftovers and he gets along with his cat. There isn't much more that Jeongin could ask of him, and he likes having him around, even when he's just chilling inside of his gardenia.

The apartment feels like a garden. There are potted plants and flowers all over the place, a couple of hanging plants and some bigger plants with large leaves. It feels brighter, homier. Jeongin really likes being home now.

Jeongin is gone for most of the day, but when he gets home, Jisung is always waiting for him, usually posted on the sofa watching some new show or movie, but sometimes hard at work cleaning something. No matter what he's doing though, he perks up like an eager puppy once Jeongin steps through the doorway. He looks forward to coming home to Jisung. It's nice to have someone excited to see him, too; someone that won't nuzzle their head against his leg for a moment and then ignore him for the rest of the day, like _some_ kitties.

"What do you do all day?" Jeongin asks one night while he's cooking and Jisung is diligently chopping up bean sprouts to help. Jeongin turns the heat of the stove down and glances over at Jisung, smiling to himself at how carefully he's holding the knife and how closely he's watching the blade. "Like, when I'm not here. Besides clean and rot your brain with TV."

Jisung looks up at him and squints, well aware of his attachment to the television but not keen on being called out. "I don't watch TV _all_ day long, you know," he attests, "I usually... 'chill' in my plant until you come home. You don't always come back at the same time every day, so I come out and sit until you get here so I can say hello to you." 

Jeongin finds himself gazing at Jisung with a soft pout on his lips, kicked in the heart by the sincerity of Jisung's words and the mental image of him waiting for Jeongin to get home, glancing at the door every few minutes in hopes he's going to show up soon. That's going to make Jeongin even more antsy to leave work or school now; he already finds himself thinking about Jisung throughout class or a shift, wondering what he's up to and what they'll do or talk about when he gets home.

"What's it like in there? Do you have things to do?"

Jisung hums in thought. "I think it's nice, but your house is nicer. There's a bedroom, and a reading spot, and a kitchen and a bathroom. I sleep a lot— my bed is really comfortable. And I have a ton of books, so I usually just read. I finished one today! It was about dragonflies."

"Oh yeah? That sounds like a good one." Jeongin turns back to the stove when the ramen in the pot begins to bubble. He sifts the noodles around with his wooden chopsticks.

"Mhm! It was."

"Tell me about it?"

While Jisung recounts all of the dragonfly facts he learned today, Jeongin busies himself with frying an egg and dumping in the other vegetables that Jisung chopped up. The fairy sidles up beside him to scoot his bean sprouts into the pot after long, and Jeongin looks down at him, nudging him gently with his elbow. "You're... you're allowed to chill out here when I'm not home, you know that, right? You can use whatever you want, anytime. You don't, like, need my permission."

Jisung seems like he doesn't know what to say, so Jeongin elaborates. "If you wanna play video games, or use my art stuff, or raid my bookshelf or the fridge or, like, shower, whatever. I don't mind. You live here, too."

Jisung looks up at Jeongin with big, sincere eyes, and nods softly. "Thank you, Jeongin."

Jeongin smiles tenderly. "Of course, Ji." He sets his bowl of ramen aside and opens the fridge, ducking down to look at the stash of fruit he's accumulated for his friend. "What do you want to eat tonight?"

Jisung peers over his shoulder and gasps. "Can I have a mango?"

"Of course, Ji."

They have dinner together like they do every night, and then curl up on the sofa so that Jeongin can teach him how to use his gaming console. When it starts to get late, Jeongin stretches his limbs before he stands up to get ready for bed. "Do you want to use the shower before I do?"

Jisung blinks up at him. "Shower?"

Jeongin blinks back. "You don't have a shower?"

Jisung shakes his head.

The fairy follows him into the tiny bathroom, and when Jeongin turns on the shower, Jisung nearly jumps out of his skin and hides behind Jeongin in fear. He clutches the back of Jeongin's shirt, seemingly terrified of the hard spray of water from above, and Jeongin quickly turns it off. "Okay, okay, no shower. Bath? Is a bath okay?"

Jeongin turns on the tap for the bath and Jisung relaxes behind him. When he looks over his shoulder at him, Jisung nods in approval, and Jeongin opens the pantry in the corner of the room to sift through his skincare. Jisung sits on the edge of the tub and watches Jeongin pull out a few different options of soap. Jeongin grabs a floral-scented bath bomb and drops it beneath the stream of water, laughing softly at Jisung's awed reaction when the color bubbles up and spreads.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" Jeongin says, and leaves the door cracked so Jisung doesn't feel like he's all alone.

While Jisung splashes around in the bath, Jeongin washes their dishes from dinner so that Jisung doesn't feel compelled to. As he's drying the last of the clean plates, he hears Jisung call, "Hey, Jeongin?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are the towels?"

Jeongin knocks gently on the door and waits for Jisung's okay before he pushes open the door and slips inside. He glances at Jisung if only to make sure he's not drowning in bubbles or dying from too much steam, and tries not to react to the sight he sees. Jisung has his back to him, cupping his hands beneath the water and lifting them up to watch the blue foam pour out. Across Jisung's shoulder blades are two long, angled scars, aubergine in color with stale, yellow bruising crawling away from them. A thick lump forms in Jeongin's throat, but he looks away, continuing over to the pantry. _I did have wings._

He keeps his eyes down as he hands Jisung a big towel, and nearly runs into the door on his way out.

Jisung emerges from the bathroom with fluffy blonde hair and Jeongin's dirty, sage green sweater back on. Jeongin frowns when he sees him, closing his laptop and pushing it away. As cute as he looks in it, it needs a wash, and then he can have it right back if he loves it so much.

"Do you not have any other clothes? Or do you just like wearing mine?" He muses, and smiles when Jisung's cheeks flush a faint pink.

"Both."

Jeongin gets out of bed to go to his dresser, pulling open the lowermost drawer and grabbing a sweatshirt with his university's emblem on it, way too big for Jeongin and definitely too big for Jisung, but the fairy seems to like being shrouded in too much fabric. Jeongin holds it out to him. "You don't have to ask for my clothes, either. You can take them, too."

With the bathroom free, Jeongin goes to get ready for bed, and when he comes back, Jisung is gone. The green sweater is folded neatly on his bed, though, and Jeongin smiles softly. "You're welcome, Ji."

✿

It takes less than a month for Jisung to become so natural in Jeongin's life that the human can't imagine being without him. It takes two or three instances of Jisung appearing out of thin air for it to stop being startling, and one meal together for it to become routine, a nightly date to curl up on the sofa and watch whatever movie Jisung picks out. After a single night of accidentally falling asleep together, snuggled up in Jeongin's bed after a rough day with Jisung's healing powers seeping into Jeongin's skin, Jeongin forgets what sleeping alone is like.

It takes one week of coming home to Jisung for Jeongin to feel like he has a family.

✿

Jisung has lots of little quirks and oddities about him beyond the whole 'being from a different realm' thing, and Jeongin feels a certain kind of closeness to him when he discovers new ones that no one else may know about, including Jisung himself. There are smaller ones, like the fact he can write with either of his hands or that he has an awful sense of time, to more overt ones like how he can't bring himself to tell a lie, no matter how small, and he truly, physically _glows_ when Jeongin tells him he did a good job on something.

When Jisung thinks he's alone, or that Jeongin isn't paying attention to him, he tends to talk to himself quite a lot, and the conversations are nothing short of entertaining. Sometimes he'll recite scenes from whatever media he's consumed that day, taking on multiple characters and giving them each a different voice while he colors or paints. He's named every one of the plants in their apartment according to their personalities, and tries to mediate their drama when he's studying them.

"Well you didn't have a problem with being next to Areum yesterday. Did she say something rude?" Jisung murmurs, picking up Jiyoung's yellow painted pot and moving her to the other side of the windowsill, next to their jasmine plant — Jisung would be pissed if he knew that Jeongin forgot her name. Jisung gasps as Jiyoung apparently speaks back to him. "Areum, why would you say that?"

He likes to ask Jeongin silly questions reminiscent of Jeongin's Google search trends, all in an effort to learn more about the human world and human tendencies, but they always remind Jeongin of a child in their inquisitive stage where they have a question about anything and everything.

"Why is your hair blue?" Jisung asks one day, eyebrows furrowed like he's never even noticed Jeongin's cerulean hair before. Jeongin can't help but to laugh softly, running his fingers through his hair now that he's hyper aware of the fact he has it.

"Uh, I don't know. I like blue."

"Does it grow blue naturally?"

Jeongin grins and shakes his head. "No, it's black." He tips his head forward to show Jisung where his blue fades into the black of his roots.

Jisung's eyes grow wide, tilting his head in curiosity. "So how is it blue?"

So Jeongin lets him watch and help the next time he touches up his hair, and Jisung is awed by the entire process as if it's rocket science. He'll ask things like, _why do humans get so tall?_ and _if you're happy, why are you crying?_ and leave Jeongin stumped on how to even answer. He'll question why things are called what they are, and where the concepts of things came from. Jeongin's caught him reading his history textbook a few times. He picks up on things easily, and he never forgets them. Jisung's affinity for learning is one of the most endearing things about him, and there are a lot.

Perhaps Jeongin's favorite quirk about Jisung, though, is how he picks up on human slang, especially Jeongin's, and tries to use it whenever he can, even if it doesn't quite make sense.

"I'll be right back," Jeongin tells him one afternoon, pulling his shoes on before he opens the front door. He's going to check the mailbox before it gets too dark outside and then the building tenants he doesn't particularly like will be out and about.

"Oh, are you gonna bounce?" Jisung asks seriously, looking up from his bowl of oatmeal. Jeongin stops in his tracks.

"Pardon?"

Jisung blinks. "You're leaving."

It takes Jeongin a moment to understand what he'd said, and then he laughs, covering his face with one of his hands. "God, Jisung. Where did you get that one?"

Jisung smiles proudly. "I watched this movie about roller-skating! They said it a lot."

They're huddled together on the floor another time, stationed in front of their plant kids and trying to paint portraits of them with a new set of watercolors Jeongin just got. As Jeongin's focused on drawing the outline of Ruby, their anthurium plant's heart-shaped leaves, Jisung nudges his arm gently to get his attention. When Jeongin looks up at him, Jisung is holding out his palette to show him the vibrant shade of purple he made.

"That's really pretty, Ji," Jeongin compliments, making Jisung's cheeks bloom with color.

"Do you vibe with it?" Jisung asks, and Jeongin's face screws up in both confusion and amusement.

"Ew, stop," he laughs, which only eggs Jisung and all of his silliness on.

"Do you? Is it dope?" Jisung nudges him again, laughing with Jeongin. "I think it's lit! It's fucking fire, man."

Jeongin shoves him playfully in the arm, trying to go back to his work but he can't stop laughing, the cringe of it all making him turn as pink as the flower he's trying to paint. "That's so nasty. Stop it right now."

Jisung's laughs die down to giggles as he goes back to painting, too, but he leans against Jeongin's side when he says, "I vibe with yours, too. It's hella good."

Jeongin rests his face in his hands and the laughter between them bursts again. His days glow so brilliantly with Jisung in them.

Tonight they're inside of a fort they constructed out of the chairs from the kitchen table, every blanket and pillow Jeongin owns, and cushions from the sofa. Nestled in a pile of faux fur and sherpa, Jisung lies with his back to Jeongin's chest, the human's arms wrapped comfortably around him, a sleeping Bomi curled up in Jisung's lap. They're watching some American romantic comedy that's actually not as awful as the summary made it seem, and Jeongin doesn't think he's ever felt so at peace. He hides his face in the back of Jisung's blonde hair to yawn, and then pats the fairy's tummy as a sign to let him up.

"You want anything from the kitchen?" Jeongin asks as he crawls out of the fort, grabbing their empty ice cream bowls and all of their snack wrappers. Jisung perks up and reaches for his glass, holding it out to Jeongin.

"Oh, baby, can you get me some more milk?"

Jeongin takes the cup easily, but freezes, raising an eyebrow at Jisung. The corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. " _Baby?_ "

Jisung beams up at him, giggling at the confusion on Jeongin's face. "Please, baby?"

He realizes, then, as the protagonist's love interest calls her _baby_ moments later, that he's been saying it for most of the movie and that's where Jisung got it from. Jeongin closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out a laugh and continuing on to the kitchen.

He knows that Jisung is just mimicking again. So why does the idea of Jisung calling him _baby_ make his stomach hurt?

Jeongin returns with a can of cider for himself and a full glass of milk for Jisung. When he hands it to the fairy, the fairy responds with, "thank you, baby."

Jeongin rolls his eyes, deflecting the chaotic stir of butterflies in his tummy as he crawls back into the fort to retake his place behind Jisung. He settles in with him, letting the smaller boy snuggle up to him once more. "You're welcome, baby."

Jisung starts calling him baby more than he calls him his name, and it's absolutely not a big deal.

✿

It's been awhile since Jeongin's hung out with Felix outside of work. They've gone to grab lunch together on their breaks, and they text each other throughout the day, but finals are coming up and beyond that Jeongin's been pretty preoccupied with his new roommate, so they haven't had much time to link up. Felix knows that Jeongin hasn't been having the best time emotionally for the last couple of months, too, so he's been trying to give Jeongin space to heal like he always does.

Jeongin is so grateful to have a friend like Felix, and he misses him a lot, even though he'd never admit it. He's been in pretty high spirits recently, and he's feeling up to some social interaction beyond his fairy companion and his cat. When he invites Felix over to study and have dinner, the older boy can barely contain himself.

"Yes, of course I do!" Felix exclaims, clinging onto Jeongin's arm and nuzzling his cheek against his shoulder. They're in the middle of the shop and there are a few customers around who glance at them quizzically, making Jeongin flush. He lets Felix hang on him, though, as he continues assembling a huge order that's getting picked up tomorrow. "I miss you so much."

"You see me literally everyday," Jeongin muses. He looks down at Felix and quickly averts his face when the blonde tries to come at him for a kiss. "Hey!"

"Yeah, but it's not the same." Felix lets go of Jeongin with an exaggerated pout, picking up his shears so he can go back to helping with the order. "When do you want me?"

Jeongin decides to humor his best friend and rests a gentle hand on his arm, gazing at him with all of the romance in the world. "I always want you."

"Oh, Innie!" Felix squeals excitedly and tries to grab onto Jeongin again, but the younger evades him by side-stepping his attack and running over to the checkout counter where a woman is browsing the catalog.

It's Saturday night, and Felix texted about ten minutes ago that he was just grabbing their dinner and then he'd be over. Jisung has been helping Jeongin tidy up little messes they've made throughout the day even though Jeongin assured him he didn't have to, but Jisung wants to do something to welcome Felix considering he's much too shy to meet him today. Jisung's never met a human other than Jeongin — or his past caretaker who Jeongin likes to pretend never existed — and as friendly and outgoing as Jisung seems in Jeongin's eyes, the prospect of meeting other humans always makes Jisung freeze up. He freaks out and disappears every time there's a knock on the door, never mind the idea of meeting a human face to face.

Jisung sits on the edge of Jeongin's bed while the human lights some incense on the coffee table. He's wearing one of Jeongin's knitted turtlenecks and some jeans that have always been too small for Jeongin but fit Jisung snugly, and he looks so cute, small and cozy that Jeongin can barely resist the urge to snatch him up for a quick cuddle before Felix comes. He does just that, jumping onto the bed and wrapping his arms around Jisung to push him down, making Jisung yelp in surprise. Jeongin wraps himself around him and Jisung clings onto him, making himself even smaller in Jeongin's arms. They look at each other with fond smiles.

"Are you okay?" Jisung asks, his big, brown eyes looking even bigger and more starry than usual.

Jeongin shrugs, closing his eyes. "Just wanted to hug you."

Jisung slides a hand from Jeongin's back up into his hair, scratching at his teal blue scalp. His fingertips are warm, sending currents of comfort through Jeongin's skin as he's petted. Jeongin sighs contentedly, burrowing into Jisung's chest. A few minutes of pleasant silence pass before Jeongin opens his eyes and looks up at Jisung, finding that Jisung is already looking at him.

Jeongin isn't sure why his chest grows tight as he studies Jisung's face, or why his tummy stirs when his eyes land on the natural pout of Jisung's little mouth. They always look so soft, always shimmering with Jeongin's lip balm ever since Jeongin taught him about the amazing world of skincare. He wonders, briefly, if they're as sweet as all of the sweet things he eats, honey and cream and fresh bread.

He snaps himself out of that train of thought, warmth spreading across his cheeks as he looks back into Jisung's eyes and swallows the lump that's lodged in his throat. Either he's seeing things, or Jisung's turning pink, too. The knock on the front door startles them out of the silent conversation they were having.

"Are you going to be okay until he leaves?" Jeongin asks once he's cleared his throat, untangling himself from Jisung and getting to his feet. Jisung nods, smiling softly and starting to play with his fingers in his lap.

"Yeah, baby. I'll be fine," Jisung says quietly, and Jeongin stalls where he stands for a moment before he decides to lean down and press a kiss to Jisung's forehead. "Have fun with your hyung."

Felix has come bearing fried chicken and tteokbokki in one hand, and a case of beer in the other. When Jeongin lets him in and closes the door behind him, Jisung is nowhere to be found. He does notice, on his way to the kitchen with Felix, one of the deep green leaves of his gardenia subtly fluttering.

Felix is one of the best friends that Jeongin's ever had, and the fact that they can talk for hours about absolutely nothing and have the time of their lives is one of infinite reasons for that. They've barely gotten any studying done, but they've exchanged all of the gossip they have from their differing universities and clued each other in on whatever flower shop drama happens when the other is off. Apparently Minho and Changbin had an argument in the inventory room one morning because of some incident between their in-laws, and Felix promises to try to snoop for more information as soon as he can.

Jeongin realizes, fucking around at his kitchen table surrounded by good food and beer and abandoned notes and textbooks, how much he really missed Felix, and how grateful he is to have him in his life. He smiles softly around the mouth of his beer before he takes a drink to finish it off.

"You seem so happy lately," Felix comments as Jeongin gets up to throw out their garbage and dump their silverware in the sink. Jeongin has to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from smiling any wider or else he'll get all bashful and embarrassed. He shrugs noncommittally, turning his back to Felix at the sink.

"I am, I guess," he agrees, glancing over his shoulder when Felix gets up from his seat to casually slide up behind him. Jeongin squints at him, and Felix squints right back.

"I feel like you're hiding something from me," the lilt of Felix's voice is suspicious. Jeongin looks away from him. "What's got you in such a good mood all the time? Did something happen?"

Jeongin shrugs again. "Don't know."

"Liar," Felix elbows him playfully. The blonde folds his arms over his chest and tips his head, thinking for a moment before he gasps like he's got the right answer. "Are you seeing someone?"

Jeongin's shoulders stiffen, and his eyes widen, and he doesn't know why. He's _not_ seeing anyone. Jeongin hasn't been on a date in, like, a full year. He supposes it's true that _someone_ is making him happy, but it's not like that. Jisung is his roommate. His good friend. There's nothing more to it than that, even if he is the cause of this... transcendent happiness. Euphoria, even.

"Uh," Jeongin elegantly says after a long moment. "No. I'm not."

Felix starts to get animated like he does when something exciting is happening, jumping around and grabbing onto Jeongin's arm to shake him. "You are such an absolute liar!"

"I'm not lying! I'm not seeing anyone!"

Felix narrows his eyes at him. "Did you get laid?"

Jeongin's eyes widen even further and he slaps at Felix's little hands. He almost wants to clap his hand over Felix's mouth so that Jisung can't hear any of his nonsense. "No! Jesus Christ," he does grab onto Felix's wrists to keep him at bay from attacking him again.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." Felix laughs, pulling his wrists out of Jeongin's grip so he can wind his arms around him in an apologetic hug that Jeongin begrudgingly accepts. "Well, whatever it is that's making you happy, I'm glad that you found it."

Felix leaves to the main room of Jeongin's apartment, and Jeongin stays there, leaning against the countertop and looking down at his hands, bending them awkwardly this way and that like Jisung often does. The softest of smiles settles on his lips. Felix will never understand just how much a simple statement like that means to him.

Jeongin joins him soon enough, sitting down on the sofa and grabbing the television remote while Felix walks along the perimeter of the room to look at all of the plants he's accumulated, turning his studio in to a greenhouse. Jeongin starts flipping through TV channels and notices Felix stop moving in his periphery, drawing his eyes over to him. Felix is approaching the gardenia on the windowsill, amazement in his expression as he takes in the sight of it.

"Is this the flower? The one you saved?" Felix glances at Jeongin, and Jeongin nods proudly. Felix smiles brightly. "Oh my god, Jeongin, it's so gorgeous! Look how big it is! So yellow!"

Jeongin chews at the inside of his lower lip and knows that Jisung is probably staring up at Felix in either fear or wonder, up close and personal with a human that doesn't even know he's there. He tries not to laugh as he imagines the look that must be on his face right now.

Felix shakes his head in astonishment, smiling Jeongin's way. "I'm so proud of you. Seriously, this is amazing."

When Felix has gone and Jeongin calls out that the coast is clear, Jisung has appeared on the bed by the time Jeongin's returned from the bathroom. Jeongin makes him a dinner of mixed fruit and yogurt, and lets Jisung cuddle up to his side in bed while he eats. It's only been a few hours, but Jeongin missed Jisung and by the way that Jisung keeps himself glued to Jeongin, it seems like he missed him, too.

"Your hyung seems really nice. And he's very pretty," Jisung says with his mouth full of strawberry. Jeongin laughs lightly, nodding in agreement. "Pretty like a flower."

"He is very pretty. And he's super nice, all the time. I'm lucky to have him."

"Are all humans as nice as you two?"

Jeongin's smile falls a little, and he twists his lips in thought, humming softly. "Mm, not all of us, no. But there are some really good ones. You just have to find them."

Jisung nods in understanding, scraping up the last of his yogurt with his spoon. He glances at his human with a cheeky smile. "I think I found the best one, though."

✿

It's a few days later when Jisung surprises Jeongin with the question, "can you take me outside?"

Jeongin looks up from his laptop, blinking in shock at the boy standing in front of him. The same boy that cowered like a frightened kitten when Jeongin's neighbor Seungmin knocked on the door to give Jeongin a package he'd accidentally been delivered — wants to go outside where there's people all over the place.

"Really?" Jeongin asks, and Jisung nods timidly. "Where's this coming from?"

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to Jeongin, looking over at the window. "I think I'm ready. It doesn't seem so scary anymore. I've been reading a lot, and you've been teaching me a lot, a-and meeting your hyung made me feel like humans aren't that bad." Jisung nods again, more to himself than to Jeongin. "I think if you're with me, it'll be okay."

Jeongin looks out the window, too, watching the rain run down the glass in thin streams. He gazes at Jisung with a kind smile, and then closes his laptop. "You want to go right now? It's raining."

Jisung nods enthusiastically, reaching to clutch Jeongin's sleeve like he might start begging. "I love rain! I haven't felt rain in a really long time."

So Jeongin gives Jisung one of his coats and pulls one on too, stepping into some sneakers and offering a pair to Jisung. The sleeves of the coat are too long and the hood is too big, nearly covering his eyes when he puts it up, but the shoes don't look like they're too far off from whatever Jisung's size really is. Jeongin grabs his keys and opens the front door, looking over his shoulder at Jisung who's just standing there, staring out at the hallway in distress.

"Hey, we don't have to," Jeongin assures him and closes the door a little. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Ji."

Jisung shakes his head. "N-No, I want to," he takes a breath and stalls for another moment before he walks forward, reaching for Jeongin's hand. Jeongin laces their fingers together and leads him out the door, shutting and locking it behind them.

The walk down the hall is slow, with Jisung clutching Jeongin's hand as tightly as he can and hiding behind him a little, looking all around at everything and peering over Jeongin's shoulder in curiosity. When they get to the elevator, Jeongin presses the down button and squeezes Jisung's hand comfortingly.

"The elevator can be kind of scary. It's a weird feeling," he lifts his free hand to brush some of Jisung's blonde hair out of his face, "but it's not going to hurt you. It's safe."

Even so, Jisung clings to him in the elevator like his life is at risk. He keeps his eyes squeezed closed and his face hidden in Jeongin's back the entire way down, and nearly barrels out when they get to the lobby. Jeongin can't help but laugh.

The air outside is pretty cold, and the rain makes it colder, but Jeongin doesn't mind and it seems like Jisung doesn't mind, either. Jeongin leads him to the sidewalk in front of his building and they stand there in the drizzle, Jisung looking up at the grey sky with pure admiration and delight on his face. Jeongin watches him turn in a slow circle, and then another one, until he's spinning around and then runs a few feet ahead to jump into a shallow puddle, squealing when the water splashes around him. There are a few people walking down the street, and cars coming here and going there, but Jisung is too busy having the time of his life to notice or care. Jeongin's never seen him quite so happy.

Jisung looks behind him to make sure that Jeongin is still there, and they exchange big, brilliant smiles that make Jeongin's chest feel full with light. Jisung runs back to him and takes his hand, pulling him along the sidewalk to kick around in every puddle they can find.

Jeongin makes it a point to get Jisung out of the house whenever he can. They start slow and small, just quiet walks around the block with their fingers interlaced, and Jeongin will bow politely to strangers and say hello so that Jisung knows it's okay to do that, too, and the fairy will mimic him and then look up at him with pleading eyes to make sure he did okay. He does perfectly every single time. There's no way someone could _not_ like Jisung.

The next step is taking Jisung with him to the grocery store, and luckily the one that Jeongin usually goes to is a small, family-owned market a couple of blocks away that's never too busy. Jeongin pushes the cart and lets Jisung grab the food from the shelves and freezers, and Jisung's thrilled to do so. He starts to get excited to go on shopping trips, and Jeongin ends up easing him into the deeper city where they can go to bigger stores that Jisung's only scared of for the first handful of minutes that they're inside. Jeongin buys him some clothes that actually fit him and a nice pair of Vans after getting an employee's help sizing him. Jisung is so grateful and can't stop thanking him, even though he's still going to wear Jeongin's clothes any chance he gets.

They begin going on little dates to cafes and bookstores, all quiet places that offer Jisung some sanctuary after loud and crowded bus rides. They take a long walk along the Han River one night, and as Jisung leans on the railing to peer into the dark water, and then up at the glimmering Seoul skyline in the distance, Jeongin can't take his eyes off of him. Jisung might be the most gorgeous sight in this entire city.

No matter where they go or what they do, Jisung rarely lets go of Jeongin's hand. Whether it's a safety or comfort thing, keeping Jeongin attached to him to make sure they don't get separated, or a PDA thing, Jeongin doesn't know, and he doesn't care either way. He just likes the feeling of Jisung's little hand in his.

The flower shop got a huge shipment the other day, and Jeongin really wants Jisung to see it in person. He could always bring him bouquets home like he usually does, but now that Jisung isn't so scared of outside, there's no reason not to bring him in. He'll face some annoying interrogations from his coworkers about how this mystery guy is, especially Felix and Minho, but he's pretty good at deflecting their nosiness.

Jeongin holds the door open for Jisung, the little bell above it tinkling to announce their arrival. Jisung utters a quiet wow at the sight of flowers and potted trees as far as the eye can see, colors so vibrant and compelling that he doesn't know where to look first. He gently pulls Jeongin along so he can explore, and Jeongin glances around to see who's working today. Changbin is behind the counter helping a customer, and Ryujin, the new hire, is making a bunch of matching centerpieces at the work table near the door. Jeongin smiles her way in greeting, and follows behind Jisung as the fairy goes to examine a pot of stargazer lilies.

"Look at this one, baby," Jisung carefully picks up a pot with a big, pale pink anemone amongst tinier buds. "I've never seen one this big!"

Jeongin _oohs_ in interest and runs his fingertips gingerly over one of its petals. "So pretty. I think we got some purple ones in, too, but they're not very b—"

"They don't need them until the twentieth, but we may as well get started now since there's so many. It might take us until then to finish." Minho's voice trails in from the back room, and Jeongin sighs in defeat. He's always glad to see Minho, but he hoped he'd get out of here scot-free.

When Jeongin looks over there, he sees Minho carrying a clipboard and Felix beside him scribbling on a clipboard of his own. Jeongin looks away before they can see him, but even if they weren't such attentive employees, his hair color would give him away anyhow. He can hear them approaching him.

"If it isn't Yang Jeongin," the smile in Minho's voice is teasing, "can't stay away from us even on his day off."

Jeongin rolls his eyes playfully, letting Minho ruffle up his hair and fix it after. "I come here for Felix, not you. Don't flatter yourself." He snickers at Minho's mock offense and the way that Felix jumps on him in a hug.

Jisung doesn't even notice them, too preoccupied with perusing a rack of tiny plants a few feet away. Jeongin's heart starts kicking in his chest at the reality of the situation. He has no idea how he's going to explain Jisung, how he met him, who he is—

"Hey, baby? Do you think we have enough room for five more baby plants? They all want to come home with us," Jisung asks, turning around and stopping in his tracks when he sees that they have company. The color drains from his face as they stare at him and he stares back, and he shuffles over to immediately grab Jeongin's hand and hide halfway behind him.

He has no idea how he's going to explain why Jisung calls him _baby_ , or refers to his apartment as theirs, or why he's holding his hand. Life seeps out of Jeongin's body, too.

"Who's this?" Minho grins, eyebrows raised as he props a hand on his hip. Jeongin looks to Felix for help, but the older boy is looking at him just as curiously, a delighted smile on his face. Jeongin wants to groan.

"Uh, this is Jisung," he looks over his shoulder at Jisung and squeezes his hand to let him know that it's okay, that he doesn't have to be afraid of him. He knows Felix, anyway, he just doesn't realize it yet. Jisung swallows thickly and looks at Jeongin's coworkers, offering a small, shy smile and a tiny wave of his free hand. Jeongin meets Minho and Felix's amused gazes and effectively panics. He doesn't know what to say, so he says the worst thing possible. "He's, um, my boyfriend."

Felix looks like he's going to pass out, and if the smile on Minho's face gets any bigger, he's going to look insane. Jeongin discreetly shakes his head, glaring at them in a warning not to make this a big deal.

"Wow, oh my goodness," Minho clears his throat as he reels in the desire to make a spectacle, always keen on embarrassing Jeongin who's like a son to him but not wanting to freak Jisung out any more than he already is. Felix tries to calm down, too, but still looks like he's about to burst at the seams with excitement. _I knew you were lying_ , the narrowed look in his eyes says. Jeongin looks away from him. "That's great! Nice to meet you, Jisung. I'm Minho," Minho holds his hand out and Jisung reaches out to shake it gingerly.

"Nice to meet you, too," Jisung says, his voice so much softer than it usually is, when he's comfortable and being himself. Jeongin feels sick to his stomach. Why did he say that? He hopes to some higher power that Jisung doesn't even know what _boyfriend_ means and is just uncomfortable because he's shy, not because Jeongin has branded him as something he's not.

"My name is Felix, it's so good to meet you," Jeongin's friend exclaims, shaking Jisung's hand with both of his. Jisung gazes at Felix like he might recognize him now, eyes widening in epiphany. "You're so gorgeous! Jeongin's a lucky boy."

Jeongin doesn't know who's flushed more fiercely, him or Jisung. All he knows is that this is mortifying and he wants to drag Jisung as far away from here as possible in the next minute.

"O-oh, thank you," Jisung breathes, his smile as charming and dazzling as his eyes.

Apparently the unease in Jeongin's aura is palpable because his coworkers back off, looking at each other and nodding in agreement that they need to leave them alone. "Alright, well, we've got a metric fuckton of centerpieces to make, so we better get to it. Nice to see you today, Yeni," Minho grins, patting his shoulder, and then he bows his head politely to Jisung, Felix following suit. "Great to meet you, Jisung."

Minho leads Felix away, and Jeongin and Jisung look at each other before bursting into awkward giggles. Jeongin drags a hand down his face, wishing that his heart would slow down any second now.

"They're really nice," Jisung is still holding Jeongin's hand, and he brings it up to his chest and rests his other hand on top of it. "That's Felix! Your hyung!"

Jeongin laughs lightly and nods. "Yeah, that's him. Does he look how you remember?"

"Yeah! He's so pretty. He thinks _I'm_ pretty!"

"You _are_ pretty, Jiji."

Jisung's face flushes a brighter shade of pink, and he turns away to keep looking at flowers. "No, you are."

They pick out a bunch of new plants for their apartment, and Changbin checks them out. He doesn't care nearly as much about Jisung's presence as the other two did, and Jeongin's relieved. He doesn't miss the troublesome twosome ogling them on their way out, waving enthusiastically and wiggling their eyebrows suggestively. Jeongin's next shift is going to be hell.

Jeongin can't stop thinking about what he said.

He feels awkward, and guilty, and stupid more than anything. He could have said Jisung was literally anyone else: a classmate, a friend, anyone but his boyfriend. At this point, his dumb little crush on Jisung that he's been trying to act like he doesn't have, is undeniable. And he'd allowed it to take the steering wheel and fuck everything up. Jeongin quite honestly wants to bury himself in the park behind his apartment building.

Dinner that night feels tense, but it's probably just in Jeongin's head, because Jisung is acting perfectly normal, chatting and laughing and cuddling up to Jeongin like he always does. Jeongin isn't very hungry, presumably because of all of the anxiety in his stomach, so he just eats the leftovers of the mango he'd cut up for Jisung, a few pieces that wouldn't fit in his bowl.

Jeongin is staring at a spot on the carpet with his knees pulled up to his chest, idly nibbling at a piece of mango while Jisung sips his milk through a bendy straw. The room is quiet except for the murmur of the television, but even that disappears when Jisung grabs the remote and mutes it. Jeongin glances at him and finds him looking back at him, brows pinched in worry.

"Jeongin, what's the matter?"

The anxiety in Jeongin's tummy bubbles up and makes him want to throw up. "What do you mean?"

Jisung huffs and turns his entire body to face him, sitting cross legged and resting a hand on Jeongin's thigh. The touch feels so hot through his jeans. "Your aura has been so troubled since we saw your friends earlier. Are you upset?"

Jeongin shakes his head. He can't meet Jisung's round, pressing eyes. "I'm not upset."

"What is it, then?" Jisung's gentle voice settles on Jeongin like a soft blanket. He knows that he's safe with Jisung, and he can tell him anything. "You can tell me."

Jeongin swallows as his throat starts to tighten and his chest begins to burn. "I'm... I'm sorry that I called you my boyfriend."

"Huh?"

Jeongin finally looks at him. "At the flower shop. I told them that you're my boyfriend, and I shouldn't have said that. That was super weird and uncalled for and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

Jisung blinks. "Jeongin, it's okay. I didn't mind."

A second of silence. "Do you know what a boyfriend is?"

Jisung laughs softly, nodding his head. "Sure I do. I mean, where I come from we never used _boyfriend_ or _girlfriend_... We used _lover_. I didn't know what boyfriend meant the first time I heard it, but I know now that it's the same thing."

Jeongin's so embarrassed he could fucking die. He covers his face with one hand. "Oh my god."

"I really didn't mind. You can call me your boyfriend if you want to."

"But you're... but you're not. You're not my boyfriend."

"How come?"

Jeongin gapes at him, so thrown by his question that he forgets to breathe for a moment. Jisung has asked him a lot of questions that he's had trouble answering, but this one takes the cake and then some. His lips part as if to speak, and then press together, and then part again. "Wh-what?"

Jisung looks down at Jeongin's leg as he picks at a thread in his inseam. "How come I'm not your boyfriend?"

"Jisung, I have literally no idea how to even begin answering that."

Jisung laughs again, and his bright smile makes Jeongin smile briefly, even though he's so confused he might be sick. "From what I've learned, a lover is someone that you spend a lot of time with, that you're comfortable with and you like being around. They're someone you cherish and care for, and you value their feelings and you support them. Someone that you want to be around every single day, every minute, every second. You miss them when they're gone and can't stand being apart from them because you feel like a piece of you is gone with them. You want to be with them for a very long time, and keep them safe." Jisung meets Jeongin's awed gaze. "That is how I feel for you, and I think that's how you feel for me, too. So, since lover and boyfriend are the same, how come I'm not your boyfriend?"

Jeongin searches hard for words, but comes up short. It's like Jisung read his mind and his heart and laid them both on the table, but Jisung's so much more profoundly romantic and articulate than Jeongin could ever hope to be. Jeongin cares for Jisung so much, so deeply, that he can't imagine what his life would be like without him in it. So maybe he does love Jisung, and Jisung might love it back, but surely it's not like _that._ Right?

"That's... yeah, I do feel that way for you, Jisung," Jeongin agrees, blinking away the burn in his tear ducts. "But I..."

"You don't want me to be your boyfriend?"

Jeongin blinks, like, twenty times. "I didn't... I d-didn't say that." He laughs nervously, but Jisung's face is so serious. "But it's... I don't think you fully know what you're asking for."

"Yes I do," Jisung furrows his eyebrows some more. "Boyfriends on TV hold hands, and sleep together, and live together, and cuddle, and kiss each other, and all that. We do all of that stuff. So I don't understand."

"We don't... we don't kiss, Ji," Jeongin shakes his head. "Not... like that."

"So why can't we?"

"You are blowing my fucking mind, dude."

Jisung's laugh is too cheerful and unfitting for how perplexed and emo Jeongin feels right now. Jeongin glares at him, and Jisung takes hold of his hand so he can lace their fingers together. He gets his face really close to Jeongin's and Jeongin tries to stand his ground although every siren in his head is telling him to move away.

"You don't want to kiss me?" Jisung murmurs. "Is that it?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"So kiss me, then."

Leering at each other with not even two inches of space between them, Jeongin realizes that he's never felt like this before. Not for anyone, not even close. He's had crushes on people, had a couple of boyfriends and went on lots of dates when he first started college. He's had infatuations, and he's had the desire to kiss people that he thought were especially cool or pretty. But this is so much different. He's never had feelings for someone like this — go figure that someone's not even a person. Jeongin has never wanted anyone or anything, person or not, as much as he wants Jisung to be in his life like this.

Jeongin leans forward the mere centimeters it takes to press his lips to Jisung's. There is a small shock, like a spark of electricity, that makes them both gasp, but Jeongin kisses him again, and Jisung's lips are as soft as they always appear to be. They taste like mango and milk and lip balm. It's more of a simple, delicate compression of their lips than it is a kiss because Jeongin's not sure if this is the right thing to do, but soon enough Jisung's palm cups Jeongin's jaw to bring him closer and deepen it.

It's obvious that Jisung's never kissed before, or at least never kissed much, in the way that he unsurely follows Jeongin's movements and ends up just letting him lead, holding onto him with Jeongin's hand on his small waist. Jeongin kisses him slowly, cautiously, and pulls away after a handful of seconds. Their eyes lock, and Jisung brings his fingertips up to lightly touch his lips. He looks about as starstruck as Jeongin feels.

"Was that okay?" Jeongin shyly laughs, averting his eyes when it gets too much and the skin of his face gets so hot that it almost hurts. Jisung cups his face with both hands, comfort seeping into his skin like rain, and tips Jeongin’s head up so he can reconnect their lips, more confidently this time. This one feels like it lasts forever, minutes and minutes of gentle kissing and soft breathing.

When Jisung pulls away, he rests his forehead against Jeongin's and smiles so fondly. "Can I be your boyfriend now?"

Jeongin wrinkles his nose and chuckles, wrapping his arms securely, protectively around Jisung's waist. "Please."

✿

Jeongin hasn't had a boyfriend since he was a teenager. He doesn't really remember what that was like, but being Jisung's boyfriend is easy, and natural, and fun.

Things aren't too much different than they were before, considering they were already so close and so comfortable with each other. There are more dates, cuddling feels a little different, and their infatuation with each other is far more obvious than it was before, and it shows in everything that they do. They're always touching each other, the _baby_ pet name evolves into _honey_ and _sweetheart_ and embarrassing ones they'd never call each other in public like _muffin_ and _sweet cakes_. And the kissing — the kissing is definitely new. And there's a lot of it.

It's like now that Jisung has a taste for kissing, he wants to do it all the time, and Jeongin's got no problem with it. They kiss each other good morning and goodnight, Jisung won't let Jeongin leave for work or school without a goodbye kiss, and that's not even the half of it. They can't even cook without stopping to peck each other and then getting so carried away with making out against the counter that their food nearly burns, and if Jeongin needs some encouragement to get through his homework or studying, Jisung might kiss him for a little too long and knock him all off track, but Jeongin could care less.

He couldn't recount what happened in any of the movies they've recently watched, because kissing always becomes far more important and entertaining. Kissing in bed at night is the most fun, though, where they can roll around and play fight and press so impossibly close to each other that it's like they're a single body.

"Baby, I just put my retainer in," Jeongin groans one night, turning his head to escape Jisung's insistent, pouty lips. "You don't wanna kiss me."

"Yes I do, I always wanna kiss you." Jisung presses a trail of kisses across Jeongin's face until he gets to his lips, stealing a big, playful one from him that makes them both break out in giggles. Jeongin adores him so fucking much.

Jeongin finishes ringing up a customer and wishes her a good day, thanking her for choosing their shop. When she leaves with her bouquet of sunflowers, Jeongin turns to clean up the workbench behind the counter where he'd assembled her order, disposing of flower stems and wiping down the surface. Minho and Changbin emerge from the employee office and Jeongin raises an eyebrow at them, never trusting the married couple to be alone in a room together. They don't look as sus as they could; Jeongin can usually tell by the telltale flush on Minho's ears if they've been being handsy or not.

"Busy out here?" Changbin asks on his way past Jeongin to get supplies out for a new order. Jeongin hums noncommittally then shakes his head, grabbing the broom so he can sweep the floor.

"Nah, that was the first one in maybe thirty minutes. Chan just left with a couple orders, too," he informs his bosses, smiling proudly when Minho pats him on the head.

"That's my boy, holding down the fort." Minho steps up to the register beside Jeongin's and gets it ready to be audited since Ryujin will be here soon and that's the one she always uses. "How are things? Semester's almost done, huh?"

"Yeah, a few more weeks. Just preparing for final exams, and stuff."

"I bet you're excited. You and Felix always look like you're ready to take up smoking for stress relief when you talk about school."

Jeongin laughs. "Thought about it."

He doesn't even have to look at Minho to know he's smirking when he asks, "how's that boyfriend of yours?" Minho glances up at Jeongin with, of course, the fattest shit-eating grin Jeongin's ever seen, before he glances over at his husband. "You know our Yeni has himself a boyfriend, Binnie?"

Changbin raises his eyebrows, nodding like he's impressed. "Is it that guy you brought in? The little blonde one?"

"Yeah. The little blonde one." Jeongin's cheeks start to sting, and he turns his back to them so they can't see the coloring of them. "His name is Jisung."

"He seems so sweet. He's such a cutie. You two make a very cute couple." Minho's rarely so sincere, and it's not helping Jeongin's blushing problem.

"Where'd you meet him?" Changbin asks.

Jeongin goes rigid, hand freezing where it's been fluffing up the petals of some purple asters. Jeongin's never been the best liar, but being put on the spot like this all the time is going to turn him into a pro. "Uh, I put out an ad for a roommate. I really liked him."

Changbin chuckles. "No kidding."

"I'm so happy for you! Seriously, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. My baby has a whole boyfriend," Minho whines, waving his pen like it's a baby rattle. "Can we take you two out for dinner? I really want to meet him."

"You did meet him," Jeongin reminds him.

"I know I did, but, like, formally. I want to welcome him into the family."

"Minho, it's not that serious. Oh my god."

"It is that serious! I want to meet my son-in-law!"

"I want to meet him too," Changbin chimes in, "I didn't realize he was your boyfriend. Now I have to make it up to him."

Jeongin realizes that he's in a corner, and he's not going to change their minds about this. It's sweet that they're so invested in Jeongin and his life, and want to show their appreciation for Jisung when they don't even know him like that. Like an offering to a fairy.

"Okay, I'll ask him. He's shy."

Minho and Changbin coo, and Minho pinches the bridge of his nose as if he might cry. "I love him so much."

Jisung's a bit nervous about it, and Jeongin is too, but they agree to let Minho and Changbin take them out for dinner. Jisung is so flattered by the idea of it, unable to stop smiling when Jeongin tells him how excited they are to meet him and that they want to welcome him, to let him know that they like and care for him. He gets a little misty-eyed, and Jeongin hates to think that someone as special and incredible as Jisung has never experienced so much love and kindness.

They meet Jeongin's pseudo-parents at a barbecue place, and they're welcomed so warmly with tight hugs and kisses on their cheeks. Jeongin and Jisung sit on one side of the table and the married couple sit on the other, and beneath the table Jeongin keeps a comforting hand on Jisung's thigh as a reminder that he's there and he's got him. Jisung keeps his hand on top of Jeongin's.

Jeongin expects it to be a little awkward considering this is essentially a 'meeting the parents' scenario, but it really isn't, not at all. Minho and Changbin are great at making anyone and everyone around them feel comfortable and at ease, and Jisung is no exception. They make him laugh a lot, and they compliment him a lot too, and Jeongin knows how much that means to his boyfriend.

He gets a little worried when they start asking Jisung questions about himself, questions that they didn't rehearse answers to. Jeongin clued him in on the lie that they met as roommates, and Jisung was okay to go along with it because it's not technically a lie, but considering how terribly difficult it is for the fairy to lie, Jeongin's not sure how this is going to go.

"So, Jisung, where are you from?" Minho asks as he mans the grill, flipping the pork belly to let the other side cook. Jeongin rests his chin in his hand and looks at Jisung, hand still attached to his thigh, and smiles softly, encouragingly, as Jisung thinks of what to say.

"I grew up in a forest," Jisung says, eating a spoonful of white rice. "A, um, a forest town. A lot of trees. I don't... I don't remember the name."

Minho nods along. "So you've lived in Seoul a long time?"

Jisung nods as well. "Years and years."

"What made you interested in this guy?" Changbin asks with a playful grin, cocking his head toward Jeongin. Jeongin rolls his eyes at him and sifts his chopsticks through the little platter of soybean sprouts, avoiding looking at any of them, especially Jisung.

"Oh, Jeongin is the most incredible person I've ever met. He's so lovely I could never explain it. He's... he's so kind, and selfless, and caring. He took care of me so selflessly and never expected anything in return, and I don't think very many humans are like that. We met each other at a time where... I think we needed each other." Jisung glances bashfully at Jeongin, a little smile playing on his lips. "I think we were meant to find each other."

The table is quiet as Jeongin gazes at his boyfriend so tenderly. He's not nearly as embarrassed as he thought he'd be, hearing his partner wax poetic about him like that in front of his family. His heart feels full, and his eyes are burning a little, and he's happy. He's so happy and so lucky and so... so lucky. Jeongin is so lucky to have found Jisung.

"What the fuck," the pitch of Minho's voice is high, and he looks away from everyone as he blinks his eyes furiously. "I thought you were just going to say his dick is big, or something."

"Hyung!" Jeongin exclaims, throwing his wadded up napkin at him. They all erupt into laughter, Jisung included, but that embarrassment Jeongin expected to feel all along is turning him cherry red. "I fucking hate you."

"We're happy for you guys. Really. You're a great couple. I think you were meant to find each other, too," Changbin's sincerity is even rarer than Minho's, and Jeongin is going to hold his blessing close to his heart.

He laces his fingers with Jisung's in Jisung's lap, and accepts the little peck Jisung leans over to give him. 

Back at home, Jeongin and Jisung get ready for bed together, huddled up in the tiny bathroom to brush their teeth before they crawl into bed, hiking the covers up and slotting their limbs together like they always do. Gazing at Jisung in the dim light of the moon through the window, Jeongin brushes his hand over Jisung's hair, brushing it out of his eyes.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Jeongin murmurs.

Jisung smiles brightly, practically lighting up the room. "Yes, I did! I really like your hyungs. They made me feel so happy, and welcome, and... and like... like I deserve you."

Jeongin frowns, hand pausing where it's been petting him. "What do you mean, baby?"

Jisung plays with the chain of Jeongin's necklace, quiet for a moment as he thinks of how to say what he's thinking. "I meant what I said. I don't think there's anyone quite like you, and I don't know what I did to deserve your kindness. I wonder about it every single day. I'm just so grateful for you and... I don't know. You literally saved my life, Jeongin. I can never thank you enough for that."

Jeongin cups Jisung's round face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You don't have to thank me, Ji. I could never have left you there. I couldn't have let you... die. There's no way."

Jisung's eyes are glassy when he looks at his boyfriend, and the sight of it makes Jeongin's eyes water, too. "You didn't have to do that. You don't have to be so sweet a-and amazing to me every day, but you are."

Jeongin blinks and a hot tear slides down the side of his face, onto his pillow, as Jisung's eyes start to spill over. Jeongin thumbs beneath one of them to catch the tear before it can fall, and he says it. He has to say it. "Because I love you, Jisung."

Jisung's breath shakes when he inhales, gripping onto Jeongin's wrists. "I love _you_ ," he squeaks, pushing forward to connect their mouths in a trembling, clumsy kiss. "I love you so much, Jeongin. I've been alive two hundred fucking years and I've never felt love like I feel with you."

Passionate, uncoordinated kisses turn into longer, heated ones and hands sliding and gripping all over until Jisung ends up on top of Jeongin, the younger's palms holding his waist and squeezing his thighs. They've made out plenty of times, but none quite as heavy, guided by pure infatuation and a need to be closer. He trails his mouth to Jisung's neck and sinks his teeth in, making the fairy gasp, and when he starts to suck a delicate mark into his skin, Jisung makes the prettiest, softest sound. It makes Jeongin's stomach flip with want.

Jisung grips the hem of Jeongin's t-shirt and starts pushing it up his torso until Jeongin takes the hint and raises his arms so Jisung can strip it off of him. He takes the liberty of getting Jisung's shirt off, too, and then lets the fairy press their bodies back together, chests moving in sync with each other's heavy breathing.

"Jeongin," Jisung sighs, now on his back as Jeongin bites at his collarbone and runs his hand along Jisung's bare thigh, both of them down to their underwear. Jeongin lifts his head and glides back up to drop a hot kiss on Jisung's swollen lips, and rests their foreheads together. "Baby, please..."

"What, honey? What do you need?" Their pupils are blown wide when their eyes lock.

Jisung reaches for one of Jeongin's hands, shyly guiding it down his torso, past his tummy, past the band of his underwear. "You. N-Need you."

Jeongin bites down on his lower lip to hold in the groan sitting in his throat. "Need me to do what, baby?"

Jisung's eyes are misty again. "Hurts." He sucks in a breath when Jeongin's hand touches him somewhere he's likely never been touched. "M-Make me feel good, please..."

He does. He gives himself to Jisung and plants love all over his body like seeds, hopes that his every touch, kiss, stroke and thrust conveys even half of the love that he has for him. Jisung clings onto him as if Jeongin might drift away from him, gentle sounds pouring out of him until they're too loud and Jeongin has to silence him with his mouth on his. Jisung is so sensitive, so responsive, and fuck if he isn't the tightest thing in _any_ realm. Jeongin hopes so hard that he doesn’t get dirty looks from his neighbors for the headboard sounds and his boyfriend’s screams.

_I think we needed each other._ Jeongin traces nameless shapes with his fingertip on Jisung's naked back, Jisung's head tucked beneath his chin. He brushes delicately over the ridged skin that makes up one of his long scars. _I think we were meant to find each other._

✿

December is the worst month of the year. It's too cold, work gets crazy busy because of Christmas, and the snow is unruly, which means Jeongin's shoes always face getting soaked and ruined. Not to mention Christmas itself, which Jeongin's always hated, and hasn't properly celebrated since he left his parents' home in Busan as a teenager and stopped visiting. But it feels different this year. He's a little excited.

It has a lot to do with Jisung. Jeongin's not sure what holidays in the fairy realm were like, but this will be Jisung's first human Christmas and Jeongin's never felt so much pressure to make a single day of the year as perfect as possible. It doesn't help that Jisung's been watching tons of Christmas movies and now his expectations are high as hell, but Jeongin doesn't mind a challenge, especially if it's for a good cause.

Felix, hopeless romantic that he is, has been an incredible help with ideas, sending Jeongin links to cute decorations for the apartment and helping him come up with a list of winter-y dates he can take Jisung on. Jeongin keeps Jisung busy playing in the snow and going ice skating, filled up on hot chocolate and minty sweets, and wrapped in warm, never ending love. 

As the boxes of his deliveries arrive, Jeongin does his best to hide the contents so he can surprise Jisung with them all at once. There's a ridiculous amount of ornaments and tinsel, garlands and glittery things that Jeongin doesn't even remember what they are.

Unfortunately, Jeongin's not allowed to put a real cedar tree in his apartment, and he feels bad telling Jisung that, but he's understanding as he always is. He brings the fairy with him to buy a fake one, though, and lets him pick out whatever one he wants. It's not as big or as brilliant as the trees in film are, but as they decorate it together with peppy Christmas music playing and eggnog with too much whiskey, the starry look in Jisung's eyes is all Jeongin needs to know that he's enjoying this, and that Jeongin is doing this right. The endless smiling kisses that Jisung keeps giving him are pretty telling, too.

Jeongin has had Jisung's Christmas presents thought up for a long time now. There's one in particular that he's so stoked about he can barely keep it to himself, but he tries his hardest — he only has to keep it a secret for a few more days. Jisung isn't necessarily afraid of outside anymore, but he definitely doesn't want to go without Jeongin, so the dilemma about how to go Christmas shopping for Jeongin without Jeongin being there arises.

"I can just wait for you outside of the shops," Jeongin suggests, pouting at the worry on his boyfriend's face. "Or you can go shopping with Minho and Changbin, or Felix? I'm sure they'd be happy to take you."

Jisung's face lights up. He grips Jeongin's shoulders and shakes them, making Jeongin laugh. "Really!"

"Of course, baby. They love you."

So Jeongin calls Felix, who he knows Jisung likes the most even though he hasn't admitted that. He puts the call on speaker and smiles encouragingly at the boy in his lap as it rings.

"Hey, bestie," Felix answers, a silliness in his voice that's always there when he picks up.

"Hi, Lix. Are you busy?"

"Never too busy for you, what's going on?"

"Mm, not too much... Jisung has something he wants to ask you."

Felix makes a surprised little noise. "Jisung? Wants to ask _me_ something?"

"He's dying to." Jeongin teases, nuzzling his nose against Jisung's cheek as it turns a pale peach hue.

"Oh, fuck. This is serious. It feels like I'm meeting the queen, or something, I— Let me prepare myself."

"No time, you're on speaker," Jeongin laughs, and lets Jisung take hold of his phone. Jisung looks to him for help and Jeongin nods once in support.

"Um, hi, F-Felix," Jisung curls further into Jeongin's lap to get comfortable. "H-How are you?"

Felix giggles, a goofy one that bursts with his excitement. "Hello, Jisung! I'm so good, how are you!"

"I-I'm so good, too, thank you. I wanted to ask, if you aren't too busy, if y-you would come with me to get a Christmas gift for baby. Uh, f-for Jeongin."

Jeongin shakes his head, unable to keep from smiling even though he's embarrassed and Felix is never gonna let that one go. There's barely a moment of silence before Felix is squealing, "Yes! Oh my god of course I would love to go shopping with you, Jisung! We'll get the best gift for _baby_."

Jeongin sends Jisung off with Felix, bundled in a too-big winter coat and equipped with Jeongin's credit card (Jeongin made sure to text Felix and ask that he not let Jisung spend more than a couple hundred thousand won — they have to eat) that Jisung holds onto like it's a rare, national artifact and he has to get it to the capitol safely.

"If anything happens to him, I will murder you. I don't care if it's Christmas," Jeongin threatens his best friend as the two of them are walking out the door.

"Please, I would sooner murder myself. I will protect him with my life." Felix rests a hand on Jisung's back and guides him down the hallway. Jisung's little hand clings to the back of Felix's coat, and with his other, he waves goodbye to Jeongin. Jeongin waves back sullenly as if he's never going to see him again.

Jisung returns not only in one piece, but with the biggest smile on his face and a couple of shopping bags in his hands.

"You look like you had a good time," Jeongin kisses him softly hello, helping get his coat off and hanging it up for him.

"I did! We went to so many stores, and he bought me cake at a cafe. He's so nice," Jisung beams, wrapping his arms tightly around Jeongin's torso in a hug. "And he knows you so well! I think you're going to really love your gifts."

It's the first time that Jeongin has woken up on Christmas morning brimming with anticipation. Jisung is up before him, and the fairy bounces on his stomach to wake him up, dropping kisses all over his face. Jeongin groans, but he grins under all of the affection, letting Jisung do his worst.

"Wake up, baby," Jisung whispers, "it's Christmas!"

Sitting around their tree, wrapped up in one big blanket with Bomi rummaging through the presents, they take turns handing each other haphazardly wrapped boxes and watching with eager faces as they rip into them. Jisung wasn't kidding when he said that Jeongin was going to love his gifts — every one is so personal, right down to the sneakers he bought being Jeongin's favorite shade of green, or the big set of oil pastels being from the brand that Jeongin had mentioned wanting to try out.

Jeongin hasn't had a lot of time recently to work on art, with the semester concluding and work getting too busy, and all of the art supplies Jisung has picked out for him has him so excited to get back into it. He picked out some nice clothes, too, that are so Jeongin's style that it's almost shocking until he remembers that Jisung is always digging around Jeongin's closet for clothes to wear so it's really not surprising that he'd be so in tune with his style. He got him a new Nintendo game for his console, too, and Jeongin feels like the happiest little kid in the world on his very first Christmas morning. He nearly suffocates Jisung with the hugs and kisses he gives him as thanks.

For Jisung, Jeongin found a massive anthology about flowers and herbs, and a similar one about bugs. There are some clothes, too, and a big terrarium kit so that Jisung can start growing stuff on his own, even all the way up here in their apartment. It's far from the forest or a real garden, but Jisung is so elated as he reads the box that Jeongin thinks it'll do. He's also pretty excited about the pair of chunky, platform boots Jeongin got him to help him be taller, but that's not the most important gift that Jeongin's gotten him.

The last gift is in a big bag stuffed with tissue paper because Jeongin couldn't really wrap it. He sets it in front of Jisung and scoots back, giving him space to open it and watching with his lip between his teeth as Jisung pulls out wad after wad of paper. When he gets it all out, he goes still, staring into the bag with an indiscernible expression that has Jeongin's heart beating in double time.

Jisung reaches in with both hands and slowly pulls it out, the sheer, iridescent gold organza catching the morning light and casting blue and gold streaks across the room. The custom-made pair of fairy wings look like they might be too big for Jisung's small frame, but they have an adjustable strap in case. The color compliments his hair, his eyes, his glow. Jisung stares at them for a long time.

"I... I know they're probably not as pretty as yours," Jeongin gently says, "but I thought they would look nice on you."

Jisung brings a trembling hand up to his mouth and closes his eyes, a quiet sob muffled by his palm. He has to set the wings down because he's crying so hard, covering his face with both hands and resting his head on his knees. Jeongin moves to sit beside him, rubbing his back softly before lying his head against it, pulling Jisung into a warm, safe embrace that the fairy curls deeply into. His body shakes with his sobs, and Jeongin holds him close.

In all of Jeongin's research about fairies when he'd first met Jisung, he kept reading about how a fairy’s wings were the pinnacle of their image, the essence of their beauty, nonstop reminders of how Jisung had so cryptically said, _I did have wings_. Jeongin does not know what happened to them, and he's not sure he wants to. He's sure that they were the most beautiful sight to be seen, just like Jisung himself. Jisung is gorgeous on his own, but he at least deserves the option.

"Thank you, Jeongin," Jisung slurs, sniveling and blurry-eyed. Jeongin wipes at the tears on his face and kisses each of his cheeks. "I-I love them. I love you."

Jeongin helps him put them on, and when Jisung sees himself in the mirror, the tears start right back up. He cries into Jeongin's chest and Jeongin tells him, tenderly in his ear, how beautiful he is. "Never met anyone as beautiful as you, Ji."

They have breakfast together and spend some time putting together the cat tree that Jeongin bought for Bomi, which she entertains for all of five minutes before she ditches it in favor of playing inside of the Christmas tree. They co-op the game that Jisung bought, and when it starts to grow dark outside, they get ready to head to Minho and Changbin's place for their little annual Christmas party that Jeongin's only been to once. Being around happy people on a holiday that he's always hated has been hard because he didn't want to ruin everyone else's time with his refusal to be festive. But this year, he wants to be with his family.

Surrounded by his pseudo-parents, all of the other flower shop employees that have come to be like his siblings, his best friend and his boyfriend, playing drinking games and exchanging Secret Santa gifts, Jeongin can't remember what Christmas' before this were like, ones he spent alone. He lays his head on Jisung's shoulder while the fairy participates in whatever drunken game of charades they're all playing, and he smiles to himself. 

✿

It is springtime and it's warm outside, finally, after endless months of bitter cold. Jeongin can finally put his coats away confidently, knowing they aren't going to be hit with a random snowstorm any time soon. He can open the windows again, he can sit out on the balcony without shivering, he can enjoy the rain on an almost daily basis. _Jisung_ can enjoy the rain. Jisung can enjoy nature the way it's supposed to be, without frost or blight.

The two of them go on far more walks than they did in the fall and winter, and they stay out longer, too, until the sun sinks in the sky and the air starts to chill but it's still comfortable enough. Whenever it's especially nice out, they'll rent bikes and cruise around the Hangang parks, grab ice cream and sit by the riverside. Jeongin can't wait until it's hot enough to take him to a beach; he wonders if the fairy's ever experienced the ocean.

It's a Sunday afternoon, warm and bright, and they've set up a picnic in the park full of fruit and cakes. Jisung is lying on his stomach, reading through a new chapter of his bug book while Jeongin leans back against the tree they're beside, drawing in his sketchbook. He reaches for a strawberry at the same time that Jisung does, and they look at each other before cracking up, Jisung playfully smacking Jeongin's hand away so he can get his strawberry first.

Jisung ends up joining Jeongin where he sits against the tree, leaning into his side while they talk and share a honey cake. He asks some cryptic question like he always does, _what was the last day of your childhood like?_ and perplexes Jeongin into rambling on and on about his sad excuse for a childhood and opening a can of worms about why he doesn't visit his parents anymore, why they don't call him and he doesn't call them. He hasn't talked to anyone about them other than his therapist, who he hasn't seen in, like, a year. So as vulnerable as it feels to bare his dirty laundry, he feels lighter. There's no one he'd trust more with information like that.

"You don't like... you don't have parents, do you?" Jeongin asks.

"I was born in a drop of dew on a leaf in the summertime," Jisung says, and it's wild how that doesn't sound insane anymore. Jeongin has seen and heard it all. "So I guess mother nature? Or the sun, maybe. But no, I don't have any parents."

"Can I ask you a hard question? You can say no."

"Hard how? Like, math?"

Jeongin laughs, shaking his head. "No, god no. Hard like... maybe you don't want to talk about it, hard."

Jisung hums softly, but then he nods. "Sure, okay." Considering Jeongin just talked for twenty minutes about how his dad hates him and his mom barely stood up for him, maybe Jisung thinks he owes him the vulnerability. Jeongin frowns a little.

"Okay... like I said, you don't have to answer. So don't, if you don't want to." Jeongin clears his throat, picking up Jisung's hand and playing with his fingers. He idly twists around the ring that he got him for Valentine's Day that sits on his pinky finger. "What... what happened? Before I met you, or... or found you, I guess. You were... dying. I know that you said you had issues with the last person that took care of you but, I... I just wonder what happened."

Jisung is quiet for a while, and Jeongin thinks he should apologize and change the subject, but Jisung starts to talk. "You want to know what happened to my wings, don't you?"

Jeongin wavers, not willing to answer that, even though that is a huge wonder of his.

"When I stopped being useful to him, when my magic wasn't enough anymore... there's a lot of essence in a fairy's wings. A lot of concentrated... enchanted energy. That's part of why our wings mean so much to us. They're a representation of ourselves, how strong we are and what our souls are like. For that reason, they're really useful in magic. Like, uh... like witch magic. I'd heard of fairies being hunted for their wings, but you never think stuff like that will happen to you."

Jeongin gazes down at him, lips pursed together. His stomach starts to hurt.

Jisung takes a shaking breath and continues, "so he took them from me, and I don't know what he did with them. I don't know if he even got much use out of them, because I cursed him. Curses take a lot of magic and I really didn't have a lot left after he... but I tried my hardest to make sure the rest of his life would be miserable. He randomly left one day, but didn't take anything with him, though. I never saw him again, so I think he died. We can only hope."

Jeongin's eyes are wide, and he doesn't want to laugh, but the nonchalance of Jisung admitting that he basically murdered someone has him coughing out a chuckle. "Jesus, Jisung. You killed him?"

"I didn't mean to! I just wanted to give him really bad luck. But I guess I gave him _really_ bad luck."

Jeongin shakes his head and laughs again, and Jisung does, too, making the situation feel a lot less morbid than it is. So that's how Jisung ended up on the street with all of that nasty furniture, half-dead in his half-dead gardenia. The guy's place must have gotten raided or evicted and Jisung was set out with the trash. The anger that sends through Jeongin's veins is indescribable.

He threads his fingers through Jisung's and pushes out a long breath. He can't imagine Jisung, his sweet, kind Jisung going through any of the bullshit he's gone through. "I'm sorry that that happened to you," he says, but it's lame, and it doesn't change anything. Jeongin's never been good at dealing with his own feelings, much less anyone else's. "You don't deserve any of the bad things that have happened to you, and I hope you know that. None of it was in your control, and it's not fair. You deserve so much more, Ji. So much better."

Jisung looks up at him, squeezing his hand and offering him a gentle smile. "It was hard, but I think that things happen for a reason. Like, I wouldn't have met you."

Jeongin blinks at him, processing that and the fact that he's right. That pull that Jeongin felt toward that sad little potted plant that cold September day — he's not sure that that was pure chance, or coincidence. Jisung has changed his life too much. Jeongin doesn't really believe in soulmates, but hey, he didn't believe in fairies either, and he has one in his lap right now.

He rests his forehead against Jisung's, and the fairy cups his cheek, thumbing over his warm skin. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you, Jisung. I'm gonna keep you safe, okay? I know that's a big promise, but I mean it. I'll never let anything even close to that happen to you."

Jisung smiles brighter, and the wetness in his eyes makes it look like they're full of constellations. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you either, Jeongin. I'm not very big but I promise to do my best." They both laugh softly, and Jisung goes on, seriously, "you haven't been treated the way that you should be treated, by people that should have loved you unconditionally, and that's not fair. You didn't deserve it, either. I hope _you_ know that."

Jeongin blinks away the wetness in his own eyes, and presses a soft kiss to Jisung's lips. He can't find words to thank him, or express how much hearing something like that means to him, so he just kisses him again, and again. He wraps his arms around him and hugs him tightly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I love you."

"And I love you, Jeongin."

✿

"So you two will have to get there around seven to start setting up. The expo starts at ten," Minho says, flipping through pages on his clipboard as he leads Jeongin out of the employee office and onto the main floor of the shop. "I've already made a list of the pieces we'll send with you, so we should start making them today."

Jeongin and Jisung are scheduled to run the shop's table at a bridal expo next weekend, and it's the first time Jeongin will be at one without Minho or Changbin. He's flattered that the owners trust him so much with representing their business, and he's proud of Jisung for earning himself the opportunity, too.

It's not like he had to work too hard to prove himself; once Minho offered him a job here, Jisung quickly changed the entire dynamic of the shop. His plant knowledge and his ability to talk to and understand them — although they all just think he's being cute and quirky and not _actually_ having conversations with the flowers — has made him such an asset, and the energy that surrounds him has soaked everything in the shop in sunlight. The flowers bloom impossibly more brightly, customers come in just to bask in that salt lamp aura of his, and as Jisung gets back in tune with his abilities to mess around with plant genetics, they've got some flower species that can't be found anywhere else. If anyone's earned the title of floor manager, it's Jisung. Jeongin's honestly honored to manage alongside of him.

"Okay, cool. I don't think we'll have enough hydrangeas, so I'll put an order in," Jeongin walks behind the checkout counter, playfully bumping Jisung's hip with his own as the fairy finishes wrapping a bouquet in paper. Minho heads further down to start auditing a register and Jisung sees the customer off, thanking them for choosing their shop and wishing them a good day. When they're gone and the coast is clear, Jisung wraps his arms around Jeongin from behind, getting on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi," Jisung smiles, wrinkling his nose when Jeongin turns his head to kiss it. "How was your break?"

"Good, I brought you a milkshake from next door. It's in the freezer." Jeongin turns around in his arms and rests his own over Jisung's shoulders.

Jisung pouts. "Thank you, baby," he leans up to steal a quick kiss before Minho can see them, but he of course does.

"Hey, hey, hey, the only people allowed to kiss around my flowers are me and my husband," he teases, waving a hand between them to make them back off each other. The two of them giggle and Jeongin rolls his eyes, turning back to the computer.

The bell above the shop door rings as Chan walks in, here to do his deliveries for the day. He says hello to everyone in the shop on his way up to the counter, signature eye-smile on his face.

"Hi, Chan," Jisung greets him, "Felix is finishing up an order right now. He should be out any minute."

"Nice, thank you," Chan grins, leaning against the counter and slipping into small talk with the fairy about how his day is going, if it's been busy, how nice the summer weather is today.

Felix emerges from the inventory room with his arms full of flowers, walking them carefully over to the counter. He can barely see over top of them, but when he peers around them he meets Chan's eyes, and both of them slip into their usual awkwardness. Felix stutters every word, and Felix _never_ stutters unless it's with Chan, and Chan can't stop nervously laughing when nothing funny has even happened. They fumble with handing each other bouquets and cards, and the sight is painful. Jeongin and Jisung glance at each other and Jeongin raises his eyebrows, pulling a _yikes_ face.

"Okay, thank you, I'll, uh, go get these in my car and... be back later," Chan nods clumsily before he turns toward the door. Jisung waves his hand at Jeongin to get his attention, and with Jeongin watching, Jisung reaches across the counter to rest his hand on Chan's shoulder. Chan seems to jump a little, like he's been shocked. Jisung smiles at him innocently and turns away to come stand with Jeongin who looks at the fairy questioningly.

"Wait for it," Jisung whispers.

An agonizing moment passes, and Felix is about to go back to the inventory room when Chan speaks up. "Felix!" he calls to stop him, and Felix turns back to him, eyes wide.

"Felix, do you want to go out some time?"

Felix gapes, "what?"

"A date. Will you go on a date with m—"

"Yes," Felix cuts him off, a huge smile spreading across his mouth. He presses the palms of his hands to his cheeks as if he's trying to calm himself down. "Oh my god, yes! Of course!"

Jeongin's jaw is dropped. He looks at Jisung, silently begging for an explanation, but the fairy just smiles, winking at him on his way to the employee office. Jisung's magic is just as good as it's always been.


End file.
